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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26913184">Viper Records</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingKarate/pseuds/KingKarate'>KingKarate</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cobra Kai (Web Series), Karate Kid (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternative Universe - Record Store, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Canon Divergence, Chaotic Bi Characters, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Developing Relationships, Ethical Dilemmas, Eventual Smut, F/M, Healing isn't linear, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, Multi, POV First Person, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Recreational Drug Use, There Is No Biphobia In This Dojo, Triad relationship, Underage Drinking, bad communication skills, ethically questionable moves on everyones part all over here</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:34:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>58,856</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26913184</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingKarate/pseuds/KingKarate</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I thought I had it all planned out. Get through my senior year at West Valley High, get the grades, and go to college. No distractions. I wasn't counting on a handsome blond walking into my job a few days before Christmas and turning my whole life upside down.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dutch (Karate Kid)/Original Female Character(s), Dutch/Johnny Lawrence, Johnny Lawrence/Dutch/Original Female Characters, Johnny Lawrence/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>270</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>100</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Perfect Strangers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Sat Dec 22nd, 1984.</strong>
</p>
<p></p><div class="">
  <p>The store was busy, to say the least. The last Saturday before Christmas, and the whole mall was heaving with last minute shoppers. The surprise win of some skinny kid from my school in the All Valley Karate Tournament was on everyone's lips - I only knew about it because people kept coming in and talking to, no, <em>at</em> me, about it while they flipped through records and I tried to keep on top of the mayhem. I knew some of the more popular boys in my year were competing, but truthfully I didn't really know any of them unless they were specifically pointed out. I mostly kept to myself. They all liked to go out to Golf n Stuff after school and on the weekends, and I usually had to work anyway, plus I didn't really bother with school dances, so it's not like our paths would ever normally cross.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I was putting out new stock when some guy around my age came up behind me, all blonde hair and handsome features. Well, apart from the fairly brutal looking bruising around his face and neck.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Can I help you?" I asked, looking back to where I was filing away the Fs. Ugh, I was going to have to work on the attitude. I'd already been pulled up on not being extra perky with customers. I needed this job, too, if I was going to college next year.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Uh, yeah. Do you have the new Foreigner?" He asked, frowning down at me. Damn, he was tall.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Agent Provocateur? Yeah, sure. Should be over in New Releases." I smiled at him politely. "Anything else?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He looked sort of sheepish for a moment.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Anything cool in this week?" He asked eventually.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Depends what you're into. We've got a couple copies of Zappa's Thing-Fish. It's a cool concept I guess, kinda out there. Funny. That's Zappa though. I mean, who names their kid Moon Unit, right?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He nodded, licking his lower lip thoughtfully in a way I found unexpectedly distracting. "I'll take it. Anything else?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I moved away behind the counter to look for the copy of the Zappa record I had stashed back there for myself. My boss was pretty chill about things, even giving me an employee discount, but he'd be pissed if I'd kept it for myself instead of selling it full price.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Uh I think there's one copy left of the Black Flag live album?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He shook his head. "Not my thing."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I breathed a sigh of relief. I'd been looking forward to that one.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"That all?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yeah."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I started ringing him up and took the cash he handed me. Our fingers touched briefly as he put the money in my palm and we made eye contact. His eyes were <em>so</em> blue, I forgot how to breathe momentarily.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He pulled his hand back and cleared his throat. "Thanks. See ya."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"See you around." I said, handing him the bag.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <hr/>
</div><div class="">
  <p><strong>Sunday </strong> <strong>Dec 23rd, 1984.</strong></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I was working the whole day, and the steady flow of customers kept me on my feet throughout. I was dealing with another customer when the blonde from yesterday walked in. He seemed to be making a beeline for me.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Hey." I said, once I was free and the other customer had walked away. "Forget something?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yeah." He'd looked so purposeful when he walked in, but now he was staring down at me he seemed less sure of himself. "I didn't get your name."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I laughed. So Blondie was playing it this way, huh? "Dawn Blake. And you are?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Johnny Lawrence."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The name sounded familiar but I wasn't quite sure why.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Nice to meet you, Lawrence. But in case you hadn't noticed, I'm working."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Sure. Can I get your number?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I was a little surprised how forward he was, like he hadn't even considered that I might not give it to him. I supposed being that pretty, people just did what you asked.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Maybe, but right now I'm working." I tried walking away to do something else, but he followed me like a big blonde puppy.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"C'mon, my parents are having a party tomorrow night. I wanted to ask you to be my date."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Don't really do parties, sorry." I said, trying go hide a smile. A blatant lie. What kind of 17 year old didn't <em>do</em> parties?</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Alright. How about I give you my number, and you call me if you change your mind?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I made a big show of rolling my eyes. "Fine. I'll take it."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Johnny jotted his number down on a scrap of paper. I took it and tucked it in my bra, as my skirt didn't have any pockets. His eyes widened in response, as though he couldn't believe I'd drawn attention to my chest. It hadn't been deliberate, I really had just needed somewhere to stash his number.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Speak to you later."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I know you will." He grinned, like the cat who got the canary.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I didn't stop smiling to myself for the rest of the day, either. I wasn't planning on dating, I had too much shit to get through in the last half of my senior year on top of working a part time job, but what was the harm in messing around with some tall pretty boy over break?</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>I gave in and called him when I got home from work.</em>
  </p>
  <p>A woman answered. "Hello there, Weinberg residence. Laura Weinberg speaking."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Hi there, I was hoping to speak to Johnny Lawrence. Have I got the right number?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Of course. Who should I say is calling?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Thanks. It's Dawn."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I heard the woman call Johnny in the background and a clunk as she put the receiver down on a hard surface. It was a while before he picked it back up again, sounding breathless. I heard a muffled <em>thanks, mom </em>before he spoke directly to me.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Hey! Dawn!" He answered, trying to sound casual.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"So, this party..."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You wanna come?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I guess. Where is it? Got an address for me?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yeah. Or I could come pick you up? Say 7?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Alright." I gave him my address then hung up. And promptly freaked out about what I was going to wear to a Christmas party.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Thank God It's Christmas</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><strong>Monday 24th December, 1984</strong>.</p>
<p></p><div class="">
  <p>My mom was fussing around, trying to get herself ready to go out with her friends. I was putting the finishing touches to my own outfit - a black velvet cocktail dress with ruffles around the hip area that I'd borrowed from my mom. It was a little more grown-up than I would usually go for, especially matched with black pumps and sheer black pantyhose, but I didn't want to be under-dressed. I could always pretend I had to go to another party after, right?</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I teased my dark permed hair a little at the root for maximum volume, and applied red lipstick to try and tie the whole look together.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It was almost exactly 7 when I heard a car horn honk outside. My mom peeped out through the lace curtain.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Must be your date." She said. "Nice car. Where'd you pick this one up?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Work."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I ran around grabbing stuff for the evening, making sure I had everything.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Is he not gonna come to the door?" She asked, frowning.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I shrugged, walking over to where she stood at the window. Mom was right, he was driving a red Pontiac Firebird. Very nice car. "Think I should make him wait?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yeah. Make him come here."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Thankfully it wasn't actually long before he gave an annoyed shake of his head and got out of the car. He walked up the driveway and I took note that his outfit was just verging on formal. Black dress pants and a buttoned up shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbow. I probably wasn't way overdressed.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>When Johnny knocked, I was standing behind it, ready. I opened the door to find him examining his shoes.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Johnny." I greeted.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He looked up at me, then back down at my outfit. "Whoa." He cleared his throat. "You look good."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I had to borrow a dress from my mom. I normally don't really do formal."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Johnny looked like he wanted to eat me alive right on my doorstep. "Maybe you should..." He mumbled.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Alright, cool it, Tiger." I said, shoving him out of the door and towards the car. I yelled a quick goodbye to my mom, and told her not to wait up.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>We climbed into the Pontiac, and Johnny started the vehicle. The smooth purr of the engine was followed quickly by the opening notes of REO Speedwagon's <em>Can't Fight This Feeling</em>. He must have just flipped the tape before he came to the door.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You like Speedwagon?" I asked, resisting the urge to ask where he kept his tapes so I could thumb through them. You could tell a lot about a person by the kind of music he listened to. I listened to a lot of different stuff because of my job, and prided myself on my ability to talk just about anyone's ear off about music at any opportunity.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Who doesn't?" He retorted.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I shrugged. "I guess. They're good, especially if you like romantic stuff."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Johnny tensed as if he was about to argue. "They're not <em>romantic.</em>"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Pretty much all their songs are about relationships and breakups. It's not a bad thing. Or are you one of those guys who thinks having feelings is for chicks?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I noticed Johnny was blushing.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I think this album's better than Good Trouble, but Hi Infidelity is my favourite so far." I said, moving the topic along before he could say anything else or I could embarrass him more.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yeah? Same."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Johnny was quiet on the rest of the short drive. Not quite sullen, but just enough for me to know I'd struck a nerve.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>We drove into a street full of houses so big they were practically mansions. I hadn't really expected we'd pull up to one of them, until we did, and I put together the car, the house, the clothes, the way his mom had answered the phone. <em>Of course</em> he was a rich kid. I could be a real dumbass sometimes. What confused me was why he was bothering picking <em>me</em> up. He was a fit, handsome blonde dude from money. Surely chicks were lining up around the block? And here I was, working every shift I could get my hands on in a record store so that I could maybe go to college next year and getting asked out when I wasn't even sure I wanted to.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>We walked in the front door, Johnny just slightly ahead of me. A massive Christmas tree stood in the foyer, looking to my eye almost as big and lavishly decorated as the one in Times Square.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Wow." I said, looking around the decorated foyer and up at the huge staircase wound with foliage and ribbons.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Johnny rolled his eyes, obviously unimpressed with my reaction to the room. His mom popped her similarly bright blonde head around the doorway to see who had entered.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Hi!" Laura said warmly, coming all the way to greet me when she saw Johnny had brought company. "You must be Johnny's date! Did we speak on the phone?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yes ma'am. I'm Dawn." I answered politely, as she pulled me into a friendly hug and air-kissed me on the cheek.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She gave Johnny a more affectionate squeeze. "I have to go finish getting everything ready, but why don't you kids go grab a drink in the kitchen."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Johnny nodded and walked off on those impossibly long legs in a direction I assumed was kitchen-bound.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Thanks, Mrs. Weinberg." I said as I followed Johnny.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The kitchen was just as huge and immaculate as the rest of the house. Johnny walked up to the big refridgerator and pulled out two cans of coke.  He slid one down the counter towards me, like a bartender in a movie, and by some stroke of luck I caught it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"So what do you want to do?" I asked, feeling a little awkward since the car and his eye rolling in the foyer.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I dunno. I was expecting more people here by now." Johnny sounded as uncomfortable as I felt.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Wanna listen to some music?" As always, I fell back on the one thing I knew I could talk about. "I promise not to make any judgements as to your personality based on your record collection." I added, a wry smile spreading across my lips.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Johnny blew out a breath. "I'm being an asshole, aren't I?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"No. Well, <em>maybe</em> <em>a</em> <em>bit</em>. But I offended you and I'm sorry."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You didn't offend me. It's just... <em>Ugh</em>. Never mind. C'mon." He led me out of the room and back through the foyer. I kicked my heels off at the bottom of the stairs and carried them as I followed him up to his room.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Johnny's bedroom was bigger than the mine and my mom's bedrooms put together. His room was pretty neat for a teenage boy - the only real signs it wasn't a guest room were the open bag of chips and karate magazine on the bed. I wandered around as he grabbed them and shoved them out of the way. Even the posters on the wall were framed. There was a display case full of trophies in the corner. One or two for just about every sport, and a lot more than that for karate. I looked a little closer and saw some of the school trophies had my school's name on.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You go to West Valley?" I asked, while Johnny pulled out a box of vinyl and a box of tapes from under his bed. There were more tapes, probably so he could take them in the car too.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yeah. Where do you go?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"West Valley."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Johnny looked up surprised. "How come I never noticed you?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I'm surprised you had time to notice anyone with all these trophies."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Johnny huffed out a laugh. "My ex was a cheerleader."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Bit cliche, but I hear you. I spend most of my time out of school working anyway."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Cool that you work in a record store, though."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yeah. The discount is killer too. Swear he just does it so I'll spend my paycheck there."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I walked over and settled myself on the floor beside Johnny and the boxes, and set to work rummaging through his stuff.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I pulled out a copy of Whitesnake's Slide It In and shoved it into Johnny's hand.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Johnny took it and started fiddling with his tape deck, putting the tape in then getting all the settings just so.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Once he was done with that he started looking for something in another drawer. He emerged looking victorious with a little bag of weed, some tobacco and papers. "You partake?" He asked, almost gentlemanly.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I laughed. "Johnny, I work in a record store. My boss probably smokes more than half the students in our school put together. Of <em>course</em> I do."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Johnny sat on his bed and rolled a messy joint. Not so experienced, then. I climbed up on the bed next to him and lay back, listening to the music.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I grimaced when he passed the joint to me, all lumpy and kinda damp in places where he'd licked the paper too much. Still, it smoked, and that was enough. We passed it back and forth between tokes as Dave Coverdale's vocals filled the room.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"This isn't what I expected when you asked me to a party." I said, starting to feel a slight buzz.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Johnny chuckled. "Me either."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I rolled onto my side to get a good look at him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Why did you ask me? I'm sure you've got a list of girls as long as your arm looking for a ride in your Firebird."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You didn't ask me about the tournament." He said, matter-of-factly.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I frowned. "Why would I? I don't know you. I don't give two shits about karate."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I worried I'd been too blunt - he obviously gave two shits about karate, with all those trophies.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He belly laughed. <em>Thank God.</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"And <em>that's</em> why I asked you out." Johnny rolled to face me.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>His eyes roamed my face, drifting from my eyes to my lips and back.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I unconsciously leaned in towards him and he closed the distance between us, pressing his lips against mine and pulling our hips flush against each other in one quick motion. I opened my mouth to him, moaning softly when his tongue caressed mine.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Johnny's hand found it's way down towards my thigh and pulled it up over his.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>His hand didn't stop moving, though, brushing over my ass and up my waist, then settling to cup my boob.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I giggled as he rubbed his thumb across my nipple. Johnny let out a little noise at that.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You're so hot." He murmured, smiling against my lips, and did it again, drawing a gasp from me.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>A knock at the door had us flying apart, me barely grabbing onto the edge bed to stop myself falling off, and Johnny falling back against his pillow and groaning with frustration. He adjusted himself in his pants.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Johnny?" Laura called from behind the door. "Your friends are here."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"<em>Fuck</em>." Johnny swore under his breath, then yelled to his mom. "I'm coming!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Not anymore, you're not." I smirked.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Johnny rolled off the bed and walked towards the door, turning back to me just long enough to mouth "<em>fuck you</em>" at me.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"<em>Later</em>." I whispered teasingly. "But take my lipstick off first."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I came up behind him as he tried to rub the smear of red off his lips in the mirror. My hair was okay, but Johnny was wearing as much of my lipstick as I was. I grabbed my purse from where I'd dumped it on the floor and found foundation and lipstick to fix the mess he'd made around my mouth.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Back downstairs, we discovered the friends of Johnny's were actually his ex girlfriend and her new boyfriend. The boyfriend, as it happened, was the kid who had beaten Johnny in the All Valley. Now that he was in front of me, I did recognise Daniel. We were in the same art class. I'd never spoken to him directly, though. He was on crutches, so evidently Johnny had given as good as he'd gotten in their match.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The four of us stood around awkwardly in the living room while adults mingled and chatted animatedly around us. Johnny's stepdad was holding court in the corner of the room but he ignored our presence.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Daniel," Johnny said. "I'm sorry about the knee."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yeah, man, it's good. It'll be fine."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"We only came because your parents invited mine, and my parents insisted." Ali chimed in, apologetic.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"It's fine." Johnny said, putting his arm around my waist and pulling me to him as if I was some trophy to show off. I bumped Johnny lightly with my hip to make him ease off.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Have you met Dawn before?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Ali shook her head.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"No," I said. "But it's really nice to meet you both."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You too." Daniel added.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Johnny, why don't we go grab another drink?" I asked, turning to my date, and followed him into the kitchen when he led the way.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Did you only ask me here in case your ex showed up?" I asked, an unpleasant feeling gnawing at my gut.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"No. <em>God, </em>no."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Okay." I breathed shakily. "Maybe I'm just getting paranoid."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Johnny passed me another drink out of the fridge, standing a little too close once he'd put it in my hand. "Nah, it looks bad. I invited you because I thought I'd be bored tonight and you seemed like good company. See, you got it out of me eventually." He smirked.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You're smooth." I rolled my eyes but couldn't help the blush that must have been spreading across my face.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He backed me up against the counter, towering over me almost. "I really want to kiss you again."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Bring it." I said, discarding my drink on the surface next to me.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Johnny easily lifted me up onto the counter top, pushing my legs apart and standing between them. I let him kiss me until we were both breathless. We came up for air and I suddenly felt self-conscious.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Someone's gonna walk in on us here." I muttered against his mouth.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yeah. <em>Yeah.</em>" Johnny repeated, trying to get himself under control.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He helped me down, and I smoothed the skirt of my dress out a bit.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Should we get back to the party?" I asked, wiping some makeup off his face. It wasn't as bad as last time at least.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He didn't really answer, just slung his arm around me and guided me back to the living room.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Through the evening, more people Johnny knew filtered in and out. We'd hang around and chat for a while and then when nobody was looking he'd squeeze my ass or lean in so it looked like he was whispering something to me, and nibble on my earlobe instead.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It was getting late and I couldn't help myself yawning, so Johnny insisted he drive me home.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I leaned my head back against the seat and smiled sleepily when he pulled up outside my apartment building. "Tonight was nice."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yeah. Can we do it again sometime?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Sure, I'm not working tomorrow. But it's Christmas, so..."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yeah, not tomorrow."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"After work on Wednesday?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Sure. I'll pick you up."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Rad. Later, Blondie." I climbed out of the car and shut the door behind me, giving Johnny a quick wave and walking to my door.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Champion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div>
  <p>
    <b>Wednesday, 26th December, 1984.</b>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Morning, Dawn." Mitch said as I walked into the shop. He was putting up a Help Wanted sign in the window. "Want the good news or the bad news?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Good news now, bad news never, Boss. You know me."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Good news is you're getting a promotion." He said, running a hand through his long, greying brown hair.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I was a little taken aback and it must have shown.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah. You've worked so many shifts here I'm damn near violating child labour laws by having you around. You know your shit and it's made the store enough money to justify promoting you. So fuck it, you're the new Assistant Manager. The pay is still shit and the hours are too, but -" he stuck the sign onto the window with tape. "we're gonna hire someone else to help out."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I wasn't sure how to feel. "You know I'm starting college in the fall, yeah? I can't afford to lose hours to some other kid right now."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Mitch waved a hand dismissively. "I worked it out and with your raise, you should still be making the same amount for less work."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>That was touching. It'd give me more time to get stuck into school work anyway. The fact Mitch spent most of his time while I was here in the back room getting blazed must have earned me more goodwill than I thought.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Thanks, Mitch."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"No problem, kiddo." He said, then called after me as I walked off into the back room. "Bad news is you've gotta interview them!"</p>
</div><hr/>
<p></p><div>
  <p>The day was dragging. The day after Christmas most people stayed home and spent time with their families, anyway, so me being here was more of a formality than anything else. One of my new duties was to lock up, so Mitch had fucked off home to see his girlfriend. I debated calling Johnny on the work phone since things were quiet. Maybe he could come by early and hang out for a bit before I had to close. Then we'd have the back room to ourselves for a while.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I was dialling his number before I realized I'd probably have to speak to his mom.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Weinberg residence -"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hi Mrs Weinberg!" I greeted her brightly. "It's Dawn. Is Johnny home?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh, hi dear, I'll just get him." She replied.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>Johnny! Phone!</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>I heard the vague sound of him bounding down the stairs, and then he was taking the phone.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hey." He answered.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Johnny?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Dawn? Something up? I was getting ready to come meet you."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah, it's just <em>super</em> quiet. Wanna come in early?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah. Yeah, sure."</p>
</div><hr/>
<p></p><div>
  <p>Johnny must have broken the speed limit most of the way over, if not the sound barrier, because he was pushing the door of the record store open before I knew it was possible.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You weren't kidding about it being dead, huh?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I looked up from where I was sorting out new stock to see Johnny walking towards me, leather jacket on and motorbike helmet in his hand.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He held the helmet out to me. "Brought you something. It's my old one, hopefully it fits though. I wanna take you for a ride after this."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I took it with a smile and put it on the counter. "Thanks. I'll try it on in a bit." I'd always wanted a motorbike, but my mom would never let me. Getting a ride on Johnny's was a close second.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny noticed the sign in the window. "You're looking for help?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah!" I grinned proudly. "I got promoted so I have to find someone else to take my old job. You want it?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Shit, <em>yeah</em>. But you can't just give me a job like that can you? You have to like interview other people and stuff, right?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I laughed. "You're the only person to ask since Mitch put the sign up this morning. But yeah I'd have to interview you. And then clear it with my boss. Mitch said I was doing the interviews anyway, so I guess I could start now."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I put the box I was sorting out of the way and beckoned Johnny into the back room.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I flopped down in Mitch's seat and put my feet up on the desk casually. I held a blank piece of paper up and pretended to read aloud from this imaginary CV.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"So, Mr. Lawrence," I put on my most authoritative voice, "I see you've put <em>great kisser </em>under other relevant skills. How will you apply this to your role?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny looked like he was thinking hard. "Well, it seems like it would be very important for the morale of my immediate supervisor."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I beamed up at him. "You're <em>hired, </em>when can you start?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"The kissing? I was thinking maybe right now."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny came around the side of the desk and shoved my boots off it, onto the floor. He kneeled down between my feet and, with one large hand on my jaw, pulled me into a deep, passionate kiss.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I pushed him away when I heard the bell on the shop door. "Back to the grind, Johnny-boy."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I went and served the customer, and had Johnny watch while I rang his purchase up through the till.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Pretty easy, right? It only gets complicated when people ask for your opinions and then you have to figure out if they really know or care what you say back." I said when the customer was gone. "You really wanna work here? I mean, don't you have enough extracurricular sports things going on? Karate and shit?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I quit karate. My sensei went psycho after the tournament."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"No shit, dude? That sucks. Well, yeah, let me call the boss."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I dialled in Mitch's home number from the phone at the counter.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hey Mitch." I said when he picked up.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Everything okay there? You're not having problems with the door again are you? Like I said you really gotta shove it if-"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I cut him off. "No problems at all. I think I found our new guy."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah? Well if you like him he can't be that bad. When can he start?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I mouthed <em>when can you start </em>at Johnny.</p>
</div><div>
  <p><em>Tomorrow, </em>he replied.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Tomorrow?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Alright, give him a week trial. But if he turns out to be an asshole you have to fire him."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Rad. Thanks, Mitch."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I hung up the phone.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"So what did he say?" Johnny asked impatiently.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"He said you can start tomorrow but if you turn out to be an asshole then I have to fire you. So don't be an asshole. It's a week trial and if you're a good fit, we'll talk about something longer term."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Nice. I've never had a <em>job</em> before."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Holy shit dude, shut up before I barf with jealousy." I giggled.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>It was actually rolling towards closing time so I started bringing in the signs from outside. Having Johnny around to help was actually nice, at least I didn't have to lift all the heavy shit by myself.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>It was a little harder to concentrate on counting the day's takings, because every time I looked up Johnny was there just looking distracting.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I locked the money in the safe for Mitch to check over in the morning, and grabbed the helmet Johnny had given me on my way out. My denim jacket wasn't really ideal for riding around on the back of a bike, but it was better than nothing, so I shrugged it on.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I was just about to lock the doors when I remembered the help wanted sign in the window. I reopened the door, and stuck my hand in to grab it, thrusting it at Johnny once I'd ripped it off the window.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Here. A present," I said, "for getting your very first job."</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Borderline</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Thursday, 27th December, 1984.</b>
</p><p> </p><p></p><div>
  <p>6.30am sucks.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I wasn't actually scheduled for that morning, but I'd pencilled Johnny in on the rota so he could meet Mitch and get some training in, and he'd asked if I'd be there. I said yes without even thinking, not realising I was giving up my the one morning I had to sleep late.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Not only that, I was starting to feel the pressure to dress up a little for work. Usually I just threw jeans and a tshirt or sweater on with a pair of hightops and that was that, but despite myself, I wanted Johnny to look at me. I wanted him to spend all day looking at me and not being able to touch me, and then when we got off work to not want to stop touching me. We only had another week or so left of break, and I wanted to make the most of it before we went back to our regular lives.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The bonus of working with Johnny was he had offered me a ride whenever we were scheduled together, which would hopefully be often. I was going to tell Mitch it would be handy to have a guy around the store just in case - heavy lifting, douchebags hitting on me, that sort of thing. It wasn't entirely untrue - a couple of times guys had been aggressively flirtatious with me at work and Mitch himself had to tell them to knock it off.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>In the end I decided on tight, stonewash denim jeans and a cropped sweatshirt that showed a hint of midriff when I stretched. Not enough to look like I was trying to get his attention, but enough that I might succeed.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I threw some books into a backpack and my denim jacket on over the top of my sweatshirt, and went outside to wait for Johnny. There was a slight chill in the air, and I debated grabbing a heavier jacket, but it was 7.30am on the dot, and he pulled up on his bike not long after.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hey!" I called, jogging down the driveway to meet him, and earning a nod in return. I secured the helmet on my head and hopped on the back and we sped off down the street.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I loved being on the bike. The way the wind whipped around us as we wove through the streets felt amazing, almost as exhilarating as straddling the seat behind Johnny and holding onto his hips. Eventually we arrived at work, and I climbed off the bike with shaky legs and a smile so wide my face ached.</p>
</div><p>We walked into the store together, and I called out to Mitch. "Hey, Boss! Brought you the new kid!"</p><p>Mitch emerged from the office looking puzzled. "You're not on the rota today."</p><p>"I know. Thought I might sit in the back and get some school work done."</p><p></p><div>
  <p>It wasn't the first time I'd done this.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I actually got my job here because I'd been doing homework in the listening booths pretty much every day after school. I spent so much time in the store that when other people started assuming I worked there and asking me stuff, I answered correctly a good 80 percent of the time.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Mitch had taken me under his wing after realising I wasn't getting on great socially at school. He'd become something of a reluctant father figure/cool uncle, putting up with me when I was in a shitty mood and helping out when I struggled in math. My mom hadn't wanted me to work <em>and</em> go to school after Dad left, but my grades had gotten better since and she couldn't argue it.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Alright."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh, Mitch, this is Johnny."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny put out a hand for Mitch to shake and he took it. "Great to meet you, sir."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Good grip. Welcome to Viper Records."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny looked proud at the compliment. "Thanks."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I shuffled off into the office while Mitch started showing Johnny the ropes, but not before mouthing <em>kiss-ass </em>at Johnny behind Mitch's back. <em>Sir, </em>indeed.</p>
  <hr/>
</div><div>
  <p>Before I knew it, it was lunch time and precalculus had eaten half my day. I pushed away from the desk and went back onto the shop floor. Johnny was re-alphabetising the shelves while Mitch sat on his stool behind the counter.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I'm going out for lunch. You want anything?" I asked Mitch.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He waved me off. "All set here, kiddo. But take him with you."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny was due a break, and it was nice of Mitch to tell him to take it as I was going to lunch. I wondered if Mitch had guessed that there was something going on. I hoped not, I didn't want things to be awkward after we were back at school and things inevitably fizzled as Johnny got back to his regular school life and his friends.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I grabbed Johnny's jacket and passed it to him as I walked by. He followed me out of the store, waiting until we were around the corner out of sight to slip his hand around my waist and pull me into a kiss.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Wanted to do that since I picked you up this morning." He whispered when we parted, fingers playing at the hem of my sweatshirt and the skin beneath.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Me too." I sighed as he held me tight against him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He splayed one warm hand against the bare skin of my back and I had to fight every instinct to shudder with delight and lean into him more. "We really should get lunch. We can fool around later."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You promise?" Johnny murmured against my hair.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Let's go eat."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny let out a dramatic sigh and let me go.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>We found ourselves seats in a diner not far away. A waitress came over, probably a year or two older than us, flipping her honey blonde hair and flashing a perfect smile. I smirked to myself and looked out the window as she fawned over Johnny. She took our orders, mine a little less enthusiastically than Johnny's, then sauntered off to the kitchen.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Did that not bother you?" Johnny asked when she was out of earshot.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"The waitress? No, why?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You<em> know</em> she was hitting on me." He said, verging on cocky.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I shrugged. "I don't own you. We've been on one date, we aren't <em>married</em>. Besides, if I got mad at every girl that flirts with you I'd never have time to do anything else."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You're too cool." Johnny laughed, shaking his head. "Ali used to-"</p>
</div><p>"Okay, I draw the line at hearing about your ex. I'm not <em>that</em> cool."</p><p>Johnny grinned at me. "So there <em>is </em>a jealous streak under there."</p><p></p><div>
  <p>"Shut up and drink your milkshake." I said, nodding towards the waitress bringing our drinks over.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny flirted back with the waitress as she put the milkshake in front of him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You're an asshole." I said when she'd left again.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Whaaaaat?" he asked exaggeratedly, as though he hadn't just tried to provoke me into acting jealous. "I thought you didn't care."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Not caring about other girls flirting with you and not caring about you flirting with other girls <em>in front of me</em> isn't the same thing."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Alright, I guess I was confused." He raised his eyebrows and sipped his milkshake smugly.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh, bite me."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You into that?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Fuck off." I retorted, but there was no real heat to my voice.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny kept smiling at me throughout, his big dumb handsome face just beaming at me so brightly I couldn't stay mad.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I tried to look away but he nudged my foot with his under the table. "<em>Psssst,</em>" He whispered. "<em>You're prettier </em><em>anyway</em>."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I couldn't help but blush, despite resenting the implication he was comparing me to anyone else.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You're the worst."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You don't want to come to Golf n' Stuff with me after work, then?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I didn't say that."</p>
</div><hr/><p></p><div>
  <p>Golf n Stuff was as busy as ever. I usually avoided it, not having a massive friend group to go with either. If I was dating a guy it was usually a movie or hanging out alone at the park where we could make out in a secluded spot. Not somewhere that the primary activity was showing off - whether it was your car or your relationship, this place was a rumour mill and people came here to exploit that. Johnny, being rich and popular, didn't give a shit about things like that. I didn't much like people noticing me, so this was way outside my wheelhouse.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>We got off the bike and near immediately Johnny noticed some of his friends.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"C'mon, I wanna introduce you." He said, pulling me over towards the group.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Johnny!" Yelled one of the guys, a little shorter than Johnny and broader with bleach-blonde hair.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hey, guys." Johnny greeted the group. He turned to me, "Dawn, this is Dutch, Bobby, Jimmy, and Tommy. Guys, this is Dawn, she works with me at the record store."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I smiled at them and received a couple of nods of acknowledgement in return.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You've got a job? No way, man, The Ace Degenerate here's got a <em>job</em>." Laughed the one I thought was called Dutch.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Ex-Degenerate," said Johnny, as though he was reminding them of something he'd said before. "Just finished my first shift."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"So this why we haven't seen you since <em>y'know</em>?" One of the others asked. I think Tommy.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny tensed like he didn't want to continue that line of conversation. "Yeah, pretty much. Dawn and I were just gonna hit the arcade. Catch you later."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Before I knew it, Johnny had swept me away from his friends and over to the games.</p>
</div><p>"What's the deal with all that?" I asked Johnny when we were alone, wandering around and trying to decide on a game to play together.</p><p>"I don't wanna talk about it."</p><p>"Sure, but it sounds like you're avoiding them."</p><p></p><div>
  <p>Johnny wouldn't meet my eye. "I'm not avoiding them, it's just complicated."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Alright. If you say so."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>A long, awkward silence stretched between us and I was wondering if I should make up an excuse to leave. I couldn't use work, though, he had a copy of the rota now.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You want to do something for new year's eve?" Johnny asked. "My mom and Sid are out at some dumb party."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Depends. You mean like a date or do you want me to come over and get high in your room again?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny laughed, easing some of the tension I was feeling. "Maybe both. Tommy usually throws a party at his parents house. I thought you might wanna go with me? You wanna stay at my place after?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"In a guest room?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny rolled his eyes but didn't bother hiding his smile. "If you want."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"And you have no preference on that at all?" I asked, playing coy.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny moved to stand behind me and put his arms around my waist and whispered in my ear. "Like you don't know that I want you in my bed again."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Damn, his voice alone was such a turn-on.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I spun in his arms and pushed him away lightly. "Behave, Blondie."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>His grin was downright arrogant. "Or what?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Or... I'll make you drive me home and I definitely won't make out with you in the back seat."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Was that a threat?" He retorted, a flirtatious edge to his voice. "You <em>know</em> I don't respond well to threats."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah, what're <em>you</em> gonna do, huh?" I pushed his shoulder playfully.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny swept me up in his arms, my legs wrapping around his waist in a desperate attempt to find some kind of hold, and carried me back out to his bike, with me shrieking all the while.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. All Through The Night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div>
  <p>
    <b>Friday 28th December, 1984.</b>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"So where are you applying to?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The topic of college had come up when I'd pulled out a copy of Pride and Prejudice on my break and we continued chatting as I came back to work. Johnny leaned back against the counter to face me while I unpacked a delivery.</p>
  <p>"Haven't decided."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Why not?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I'm not sure what I want to do. Everything was always karate, and now..." He trailed off. "What about you?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"CSUN. They have a business course I want, and I'd get to stay close and keep working here."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny tilted his head thoughtfully. "Seems like you've got it all figured out."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah, and if I don't get in then it's all fucked, so... Gotta study."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Right."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Fuck!" I screamed as my hand slipped. The box cutter I'd been using sliced a gash deep in my hand. Johnny winced as hs looked at the blood now running down my wrist.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"First aid kit?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>My voice wavered as I replied, "bathroom."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny disappeared but returned quickly with the big green box and a towel. He sat in front of me and took my hand in his, mopping carefully at the blood before applying firm pressure on the wound and raising it to shoulder height. I felt the urge to cry and sat on it, blinking my eyes against the tears.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"It's okay, you're okay." Johnny soothed, holding my shaking, bloodied hand in both of his. "Just breathe."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I let out a few shaky breaths.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Before long, my hand had stopped bleeding and Johnny disinfected it and started dressing it expertly.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You're good at this, huh?" I commented, sucking in air at the sting of the disinfectant.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He shrugged casually. "Been in a lot of fights."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Maybe you should be a doctor."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He barked out a laugh. "Yeah, don't have the grades for that."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You seem pretty smart. You could study harder, pick up some extra credit?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny shook his head dismissively.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Okay what about something else? Physiotherapy or something like that?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I dunno. I don't even know if I wanna go to college at all."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You'd get out of living with your stepdad."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He laughed. "Okay, you're selling me on it."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I was suddenly acutely aware of how delicately Johnny was holding my hand, even though the bandage was firmly secured, he just hadn't let go.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Thanks." My voice came out smaller than I intended when I spoke.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Our eyes met and I still could hardly believe how gorgeous Johnny was.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Is it weird I wanna kiss you right now?" I whispered.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny answered by closing the distance between us and pressing his lips to mine. It wasn't the hungry, horny makeout sessions we'd been having. There was something gentle and almost tender about it. We seperated, my head swimming.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"We should get back to work." Johnny said, pulling away.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah."</p>
</div><hr/>
<p></p><div>
  <p>
    <b>Saturday 29th December, 1984.</b>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny wasn't scheduled for work today, and we didn't have plans, so I was surprised to see him sitting in his car outside when I left. He looked pissed. I didn't think he'd seen me come out of the store, so lost in his own little world. I opened the door and climbed into the passenger seat.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hey, you."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I didn't get a response. His grip on the steering wheel was so hard his knuckles were white. I reached out to put my hand over his but he shoved it away, hard.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I took a steadying breath.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Okay. I'll go." I made a move to get out of the car. My hand was on the door handle and my foot on the ground outside when Johnny grabbed my other wrist to stop me.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"No. I'm sorry. <em>Please don't leave</em>."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I shook him off my wrist and he let go like I burned him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny let his head fall back against the seat. "I'm sorry." He repeated.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What happened?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Sid started giving my mom shit about me working here and now she says I should quit. But, like, then he'll only bitch about that and <em>I can't fucking </em><em>win</em>."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"So fuck him, then, right? <em>Fuck. Him</em>. Fuck what he thinks. Do <em>you</em> like working with me?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny looked at me helplessly.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Alright. So fuck him. Keep your head down, get your grades in order, and move out in the fall for college."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He looked like he wanted to argue with me, his jaw clenched and shoulders tense, but he didn't say anything.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You wanna hang out at my place tonight?" I asked, not really sure what else to say.</p>
</div><div><p>"Yeah. Thanks."</p>
<hr/></div><div>
  <p>It occurred to me as I was unlocking the door of my apartment that Johnny hadn't been inside yet. I was suddenly self-conscious at the difference between his huge mansion and the tiny 2 bed apartment that I shared with my mom. If Johnny was bothered, he didn't say. My mom was working late at the hospital tonight so we pretty much had the place to ourselves until she rolled in in the early hours of the morning.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I threw my bag down on the couch and looked in the fridge for dinner. My mom had made a casserole and, in true Mom style, left a huge portion for me that was easily enough for the two of us, so I pulled that out to reheat later.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You wanna watch something?" I asked, indicating the tiny TV set in the corner. "I taped Tales from the Darkside."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"That sounds cool."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny was still acting kind of subdued - he sat on the couch and watched quietly while I fussed around getting the video player set up and finding us some drinks and snacks. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>I managed to make him laugh by going into my bedroom and returning with the comforter over my head like some shitty ghost. I dumped the comforter over him and climbed under.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I wasn't expecting him to put his arm around me and scooch up until I was pressed against his side. I found myself stroking the fine blonde hair on his forearm absentmindedly while we watched the show.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>At some point between hurting my hand yesterday and Johnny showing up at the store today, things had shifted between us in a way I hadn't anticipated. We didn't talk about it.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Around 9.30, after we'd eaten and cuddled on the couch for hours, Johnny started yawning. It was adorable, the way he tried to muffle the yawn with his fist, then he'd stretch and squeeze me tight against him after.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I knew my mom wouldn't get in until long after I'd gone to sleep and probably wouldn't be up until late the next day. I couldn't think of anything worse than sending Johnny home right now.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You wanna stay the night?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>We'd been on the couch together so long that my legs felt shaky when I tried to stand up. I led Johnny into my bedroom, dragging my comforter along with us. It was going to be a squeeze for us both to fit in the twin bed, but it was worth it.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny took the comforter, flicked it across the bed in one smooth motion, and looked over at me. Those blue eyes held something an awful lot like affection, too tired to be guarded. I took his hand and pulled him to me, burying my face in his chest as he stood there and allowed me to wrap my arms around his waist. He didn't move to hug me back for a second, but once he did, it was with those big strong hands sliding up the muscles of my back, and his face against my hair. I melted into him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>My hands slipped into the waistband of his jeans to free his t-shirt and then slide up beneath it. His skin was smooth and firm and hot, all taut muscle under my fingertips.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny pulled the t-shirt over his head and discarded it carelessly, not even remotely shy about being shirtless in front of me. I could see why - he was built like an athlete, I suppose because he <em>was</em>, and while I'd felt his approximate build through his clothes it just wasn't the same as seeing him like this, all bare warm skin in front of me.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"See something you like?" Johnny teased, his eyes dancing with mirth as they roamed my face.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I knew he knew how hot he was. I wasn't even bothering to disguise how attracted to him I was, either. It was pointless.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Shut up and kiss me, asshole." I smirked.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yes, ma'am." Johnny joked, pushing my hair back from my face and leaning in to kiss me softly on the lips.</p>
</div><hr/>
<p></p><div>
  <p>
    <b>Sunday, 30th December, 1984.</b>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>I opened my eyes to find light filtering through the curtains and an ache in my neck where I'd slept in a tangle of limbs with Johnny. Johnny snored quietly, his face relaxed and soft with sleep. I snuggled tight against him as I tried to fully wake up.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>We hadn't gone all the way last night. Johnny had seemed content to spend the night in our underwear in my bed, just kissing and touching each other experimentally over the fabric without going further. I wasn't interested in pushing things further just yet if he wasn't, especially after the weird turn our evening had taken.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Fooling around with boys who didn't mean anything to me and I could ignore afterwards was easy. Johnny, who held my hand so softly and came to me when he was upset and cuddled on my couch all night? So much more complicated.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I pressed my face into the nook where Johnny's shoulder met his neck, receiving a little moan in response. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Sleep well?" Johnny asked, voice hoarse with sleep.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I hummed affirmatively against his neck. "You?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Great, thanks."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny nudged me away with his chin and when I pulled back, kissed me thoroughly, until I was dizzy and disoriented.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"When do I have to sneak out?" He asked, while my brain was still misfiring.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Soon, probably." I looked over at the clock. 7.34am.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny sighed sadly and disentangled himself from me and the comforter. I lay back in bed watching him as he stretched and looked for his clothes. It was too tempting to reach for him when he sat next to me on the bed to put his jeans on. I leaned over and ran my fingers up the inside of his thigh. Johnny looked over at me, amused by the light touch.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Thanks for last night." He said.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You're welcome." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>I stretched under the blanket, letting it fall down around my stomach. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You're working today, right?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny nodded.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"And you're definitely not quitting?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He smirked. "No."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Good. Because who else would patch me up when I'm a clumsy little dumbass?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"<em>Right</em>. Really, you need a medic around at all times."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I suppose, but you'll do in a shortage."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Once he was dressed, I walked Johnny to the door and watched him leave with a promise that he'd call me later about the party.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I turned around to find my mom standing at her bedroom door in her robe, an amused smile on her face.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"So, you had that boy over all night?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I tried not to panic. She didn't seem mad.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I saw the car outside. Kinda hard to miss." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>She was right, the bright red Firebird was hardly inconspicuous.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah. Busted, huh? We didn't do anything though, just slept."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Sweetie, I'm just glad you're going on more than one date with the same boy."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Ouch. I wasn't that bad, was I? Okay, maybe I didn't bring them home or let them pick me up from home usually, but I'd made it to third dates with a few guys. I just didn't have the time or patience to deal with more effort than that for something that wasn't good. Johnny was always around, though, it felt like we were friends now and if there was anything beyond that friendship then great, but I wasn't holding out hope once we got back to school and we didn't have the same free time. It made sense to make the most of things now.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Well, he's taking me out to a party tomorrow night. Mind if I stay over at his parents?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Mom shrugged. "I trust you. Be safe, make good choices, yada yada. If you come home pregnant I'm not raising the baby."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I laughed. "Ugh, as if."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Because he's not easy on the eye?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"<em>Mom</em>. I'm not talking about how hot Johnny is with you."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh, hon, I have eyes. It's not something we need to talk about. Just don't get knocked up, and enjoy yourself."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You're so embarrssing." I was blushing furiously as I stormed back off into my bedroom.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"It's my one pleasure in life as your mother!" My mom called after me.</p>
</div><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Damaged Goods</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Monday 31st December, 1984.</b>
</p><p></p><div>
  <p>The final day of the year.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny picked me up for the party at 6. I was waiting outside, my backpack stuffed with a spare change of clothes, a toothbrush, and a box of condoms that my mom shoved in there while my back was turned.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I stashed the bag in the trunk and climed in the front seat. Johnny looked great, as usual. The fact it was fucking effortless for him to look that good filled me with envy.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Not inviting me in this time?" Johnny teased.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You know my mom's home, so no."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I'd love to meet her."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I laughed. "Oh, that's mutual. She knows you were over the other night, by the way. She caught me letting you out."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Shit. Are you in trouble?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Surprisingly not. I thought she'd give more of a shit, but she seems happy I'm having fun with someone. Didn't realize I was such a joyless asshole."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny let out a snort of laughter instead of replying.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh thanks, nice that you agree."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>It wasn't a long drive to Tommy's anyway, but we jammed out to Johnny's new Hanoi Rocks tape in the car. I enjoyed them, but Underwater World had been a regular in the rotation on my mixtapes since Johnny worked at the store. I really loved seeing him light up whenever a favourite song of his came on, so I added just enough for plausible deniability.</p>
</div><hr/><p></p><div>
  <p>We arrived at Tommy's to find the boys in the back yard around a fire pit. There were a few other people from school milling around too, some I even recognised, but Johnny wanted to hang out with his buddies and I was his date, so I stuck by them.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I was surprised to discover that I actually liked Johnny's friends. Dutch was kind of an asshole, but everyone was a bit more chill after a couple of joints had been passed around between the group. Bobby was really sweet, and Tommy was hilarious. Jimmy was kinda quiet, and I didn't quite know quite what to make of him. By 11, everyone else was well on their way to wasted. When Johnny was hitting the point of no return around the 5th or 6th beer, I stopped drinking my 3rd.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny was a handsy drunk, too, his hand tracing patterns on my leg as long as I was sitting close enough to reach. Eventually the tournament came up again.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Man, I feel really bad about hurting LaRusso's knee like that. I hope he's okay." Bobby sighed, leaning back and holding his crossed legs for balance, his beer nestled between them.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Nah, fuck that little prick, he deserved it." Dutch retorted.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh yeah and Johnny deserved what Kreese did to him, too?" Tommy piped up, bitterness in his voice.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny had told me that their sensei had gone psycho at him, but I hadn't heard the specifics. He had been pretty badly beat up when I met him, and while the bruises were well on their way to faded now, if that was comparable to the knee injury I'd seen Daniel on crutches because of... Well. It wasn't good.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jimmy looked over at Johnny, prompting me to as well. Johnny's face was indecipherable. The grip he had on my thigh tightened, though, almost hard enough to hurt.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Daniel's okay." I said quietly to Bobby. "He showed up at Johnny's mom's Christmas party with Ali. He's on crutches but fine."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Shit, dude." Bobby seemed genuinely taken aback by that.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny stood up and stormed off, away from the group, leaving me scrambling to rush after him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Johnny! Johnny, wait!"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He kept walking, those damn long legs carrying him faster than I could comfortably manage, making me jog to catch up with him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What the fuck?" I asked when I managed to grab his wrist and pull him to a stop by his car. "What, were you just gonna ditch me here? What the fuck went down just now that I don't understand because I am way out of the loop here?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I don't wanna talk about it, just let me go." He said, refusing to meet my eyes.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You'll fucking kill yourself if you drive home like this. At least let me drive. I'll call a cab to get me home if you want."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny sighed heavily but walked around and sat in the passenger side of the car.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Can you even drive stick?" Johnny asked as I got in, very visibly annoyed with me.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Just because I'm too broke for my own car doesn't mean I never learned." I snapped.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I wasn't a great or confident driver, but I was better than a drunk angry asshole behind the wheel. And to think I'd come out thinking if tonight went badly that Johnny's friends would be the problem.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Fucking hell. He handed over the keys and I started the car.</p>
  <hr/>
</div><div>
  <p>By the time we made it to Johnny's, my nerves were frayed and I was exhausted from concentrating hard on the road. I was way out of practice. We barely spoke the entire journey, aside from Johnny giving me directions, and I was so tense that I barely noticed. I was so fucking pissed off that this is how our night had gone, and now I wasn't driving I could feel it overwhelming me.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I slammed the door shut behind me after I'd pulled into the garage. According to my watch it was 11.52. What a way to start my new year. I felt fucking foolish for allowing myself to hope... I don't know what I'd hoped for.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Is this how it's gonna be? You get mad and storm off instead of dealing with shit? I hadn't pegged you for a <em>coward</em>, Johnny."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Watch your mouth." Johnny warned.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Or what?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny started to walk away into the house.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah, I thought so."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He stopped, standing still for a moment before rounding back on me. Johnny backed me up until I was pretty much trapped between him and the wall, the just under a foot height difference between us very apparent as he loomed over me.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You don't know what you're talking about. You're so lucky you're a girl." He spat.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah? Because you'd hit me if I was a boy?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Something fucked up inside me was screaming at me that maybe that wouldn't be the worst thing. That him walking away might be worse. I found my eyes drifting down to his mouth and back up again as we stared at each other, breathing heavily. We'd reached an impasse but now we were both too mad at each other to break away.</p>
</div><div>
  <p><em>Fuck</em>.</p>
</div><div>
  <p><em>I knew what that fucked up voice in me was screaming for now</em> <em>. Make or break time, Dawn. Do something.</em></p>
</div><div>
  <p>Hand shaking, I raised my fingertips to brush the line of Johnny's jaw, and I reached up to kiss him. It felt messed up to kiss someone like this after we'd been screaming at each other seconds before.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny accepted it, though, opening his mouth to me and brushing his tongue against mine.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>All this tension had me ready to snap, had the knot of anxiety in my stomach turning to something else as Johnny pressed me back into the wall. <em>Jesus Christ.</em></p>
</div><div>
  <p>I could barely breathe.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I couldn't stand the thought of him stopping.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>We broke apart as the countdown began outside.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>10</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I'm sorry."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>9</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I want you." <em>I need you.</em></p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>8</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Not like this."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>7</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Upstairs."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>6</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Alright."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>5</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>4</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>3</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>2</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>1</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny kissed me again as the fireworks went off and the cheers erupted outside.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Like a Virgin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div>
  <p>
    <b>Tuesday 1st January, 1985.</b>
  </p>
</div><p> </p>

<p></p><div>
  <p>"Happy new year." I sighed as we parted.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny looked down at me, pupils dilated and breathing heavily. After a moment that seemed to go on forever, he led me to his room. To think we'd been fighting like <em>that</em> just moments ago, and now here I was, adrenaline still coursing through my veins and legs feeling like jell-o as I followed Johnny upstairs.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>By the time Johnny closed his bedroom door behind me, I started to realise I wasn't going to stop shaking. My nerves were shot. This whole situation felt absurd and while I was glad that we weren't yelling at each other anymore, I wasn't sure what to do now.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny kissed me softly at first, then more insistently. The closer we got towards the bed, the more the feeling of panic rose in my chest.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny stopped and frowned at me for a moment. "You okay?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I froze, not knowing how to admit I was freaking out.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Wanna stop?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I nodded. "I'm sorry."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Is this because-"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I don't know. I've never..." <em>Had an issue sleeping around. Fought with someone and still wanted to kiss them. Felt like this. </em>I couldn't get the words out. Tears threatened to fall, my throat feeling tight.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"We can take it slow." Johnny said, trying to comfort me. "It's okay if you're not ready."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Shit, and now he thought I was a virgin or something at the exact moment that it would be awkward and weird as hell to explain otherwise. I sat on the bed, and he settled in next to me. I let my head rest on his shoulder. He took my hand in his, rubbing a small circle over the back.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"This karate thing is going to keep coming up, isn't it?" My voice sounded smaller and more despondent than I'd meant it to.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Probably."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"We don't have to talk about it now, but you can't avoid talking about it forever." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny didn't say anything for a long time as we sat there. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, but there was a sad sort of acceptance about it.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You just wanna go to bed?" He asked, squeezing my hand.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I nodded.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>We undressed, climbing under the covers together. He was warm and solid, the bed was huge and comfortable, and it didn't take long for me to slip into the soothing embrace of sleep.</p>
</div><hr/>

<p></p><div>
  <p>The alarm woke me, the deafening blare of the new clock-radio right by my head. 10am, I read through bleary eyes. Johnny wasn't in bed beside me, but the space where he had been was still warm. I lay still a while, adjusting to the feeling of being awake.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny returned, a towel around his waist, hair still damp from the shower. I averted my eyes when he dropped the towel and slipped a pair of boxers on, but still got an eyeful of his bare ass in the split second before I could react.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I cleared my throat to let him know I was awake, a fact apparently lost on him as he'd just been naked in front of me without so much as looking my way.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He blushed a deep shade of pink, which was probably about the same as my own right then.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Morning." I said meekly.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny, at least, recovered quickly, crossing the room with a shit-eating grin and sliding into bed next to me.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You smell good." I murmured as he wrapped his arms around my waist, rolling me onto my side and pulling me close. And he did, like expensive soap, clean and fresh and masculine. His damp hair brushed cold against my face as he leaned in for a kiss. Toothpaste-fresh.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You got plans for the day?" He asked, running his hand across my side, up along my ribs.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I shook my head. "I should call my mom and check in. Otherwise, free as a bird."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Good. I wanna take you somewhere."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You gonna tell me where?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Nope. Surprise. Go shower, get ready."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I don't wanna get up. You're comfy."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny sighed dramatically, but the crinkled corners of his eyes betrayed him and a smile spread across his face a moment later. "5 more minutes, alright?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>5 minutes turned into 15, turned into 30, and before we knew it, it was almost 11. It felt so damn good just being with him, I could have spent the entire day in bed.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I dragged myself out of bed eventually. Johnny's bathroom was like something out of a magazine. Marble and mirrors everywhere with a huge shower in a corner of the room dedicated to it. The bath seemed big enough to swim in.  Johnny showed me how to get the shower to work and adjust the temperature and then left me to it.</p>
</div><div>
  <p><em>Jesus Christ, Johnny's mom must spend a fortune on beauty products,</em> I thought, looking around the room, more than a little intimidated. The counter held little bottles of perfume and cologne, and a cabinet nearby was packed with the expensive brands of hair products and cosmetics that were only sold in department stores and upmarket salons.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I stepped under the spray and washed away the boozy, smoky remnants of last night.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I couldn't help but think about the way Johnny and I had fought and then made up and how I had panicked instead of following through. I wanted the earth to swallow me whole right now, or at least wash me away down the drain never to be seen again. I'd have to explain that I wasn't a virgin and that I'd had a weird reaction to the cocktail of emotions I had been feeling. But how the fuck to do that? <em>Sorry Johnny, I can't sleep with you because I might maybe be falling in love with you and I only put out for people who don't mean shit to me. </em>Yeah that'd go so well.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I kicked myself internally as I climbed back out of the shower, wiping my feet on the plush mat and wrapping myself in the fluffiest biggest towel I had ever seen. Johnny had at some point been down to the car and found my bag with my clean clothes, so I slipped the jeans and sweater on once I was dry, attempted some subtle makeup, and headed back to Johnny's room still deep in thought.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Instead, I bumped into Johnny on the landing. <em>Literally</em>. I bounced off him and back two steps.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Shit, sorry."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny looked down at me like it was hilarious. "Distracted there?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I guess."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Who knew my butt would do that?" He practically purred with delight at the warmth blossoming across my cheeks.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Quit it." I shoved him lightly and stepped past him to head downstairs. I had all my stuff in my bag now anyway, and if I ended up back in Johnny's room I didn't think we'd ever get out.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny went off to the kitchen to make toaster waffles for us while I called my mom.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I dialled our number on the expensive rotary phone.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hey mom." I said when she picked up.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>"Hey sweetie. Good night?"</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah. I'm just calling to say I might be home late. Johnny's taking me out."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>"Alright. See you when you get back. Love you."</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Love you too."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She hung up before I did.</p>
  <hr/>
</div><div>
  <p>The surprise, it turned out, was going to the beach. Despite it being cold for Cali, the beach was packed. A few groups had set up bonfires at various points along the beach, but Johnny led me to one of the few spots where people weren't really congregating and we sat down alone. We watched the ocean, and the people down on the beach enjoying themselves, until Johnny finally spoke.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What are your new year's resolutions?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The question took me by surprise. "Uh... I'm not sure. I guess I just wanna make it through this school year and get into college. Be less boring, maybe? What about you?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Still thinking about it."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh, so you just wanted to see if I had better ideas?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Getting into college sounds like a good one." He said thoughtfully.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"So you're going now?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Gets me away from Sid."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Decided where yet?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Pretty much anywhere that'll take me." Johnny laughed.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"<em>Anywhere</em> would be lucky to have you."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The silence between us was electric, stretching on forever.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Can we talk about last night?" I said, and the bubble burst, Johnny bracing instantly as if preparing for a fight. "I'm sorry."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny looked shocked, my apology catching him off guard. I wondered what his relationship with Ali had been like if he was shocked that I was apologising.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Everything was just so intense, I was so mad at you and worried for you and I freaked out and I backed off when <em>I was the one who kissed you</em> and, and... I don't know." I looked down at my sneakers, picking at the lacing. "I just don't want to fight with you like that again. I don't want to fight with you at all."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny sighed heavily, finding my left hand with his, squeezing lightly where the bandage sat across it. "I don't either."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I know you don't want to talk about whatever happened at the tournament, but burying it isn't gonna help either."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Better add that to the resolutions, huh?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"More interesting than mine anyway. Can't all be all star athletes."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Let's see how long <em>that</em> lasts." Johnny's lips twisted into a half-smile, his tone almost bitter.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I squeezed his hand back. "Hey. You're more than karate. You know that, right? Besides, you've got me, and Mitch, and Viper. It sounds like your friends left Cobra Kai because of how Kreese treated you. You're more important to them than that shit. You're better than it. Or is this because you don't have a cheerleader girlfriend to keep soccer interesting?" I played at sounding offended that Johnny might want someone else.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You gonna try out for the cheerleading squad when we get back at school? It'd look good on your extracurriculars."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You just wanna see me in pigtails like Toni Basil." I laughed, switching into a sing-song voice. "<em>Hey Johnny, you're so fine, you're so fine, you blow my </em><em>mind</em>. Fucking pervert."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny laughed and slid his arm around my shoulders. "Maybe you'd look good in the skirt."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Shut up. Like I haven't noticed the short shorts you all wear for soccer practice."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>It was true, too, while I'd never been able to pick Johnny out of the crowd specifically, I'd seen the uniform, or what passed for one. Half the time the boys on the soccer team played shirtless with those little gray Jersey cotton shorts that left almost nothihg to the imagination.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Maybe you'd get a closer look if you cheered."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh and stand next to your ex the whole time? That'll go <em>great</em>."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny bristled at even the mention of Ali, letting his arm fall down from my shoulder. Well, that killed the mood. I shifted away a little. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Are you sure you're over her? Because that would be a good resolution too." I sighed.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah. I'm sure." Johnny's whole body language had changed, suddenly closed off where it had been open and affectionate.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Good. Because we'll all be back at school soon, and then..."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I looked up to find Johnny's face was a picture - his brow furrowed in something between annoyance and confusion and then, there we go, understanding brought along a smug little smile.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Wait, are you jealous?" His voice pitched up teasingly and he nudged his shoulder into mine.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I fought down the urge to be too defensive, and lost. "What do you expect me to feel when you obviously have some unresolved shit?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hey, I'm trying." Johnny sounded frustrated. "She's with LaRusso and I'm <em>here</em>."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Nobody wants to feel like they're the backup option, Johnny." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>I felt exhausted and sad and pissed off at how this conversation had turned out. The emotional whiplash from joking around to being upset was way too much.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"<em>You aren't</em>." I knew Johnny was trying his hardest to convince me, and the effort meant something, but...</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Alright. Can you just take me home? I'm tired."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Fine. Let's go."</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter is a weird rollercoaster of feelings and I'm sorry! I'm hoping they can resolve whatever is going on here soon.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Back On Your Side</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A bit fluffier now. If you enjoyed it, please let me know in the comments.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div>
  <p>
    <b>Monday 7th January, 1985.</b>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>By some stroke of luck, Johnny and I had been scheduled separately at work for the rest of the week, and I'd ignored his calls the few times he tried. I knew it was shitty and hypocritical of me, but I couldn't find it in me to call back yet. Everything felt too raw to risk arguing again just yet. If we did, there was a fair chance of one of us ending things right then and there. While I was fairly sure that was the way things were headed, I couldn't face it, or get rid of the feeling gnawing at my insides. I was scared of being with Johnny, and absolutely fucking <em>terrified</em> of losing whatever it was I'd felt in those quiet moments we had together.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Before I knew it, the week had passed. The first day back at school had rolled around, and I'd have to face the music soon. I didn't have any classes with Johnny, so I wouldn't really have to put any effort into avoiding him during the day unless he sought me out. Work would be another story. I'd have to talk to him eventually.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I was heading to swap my books around before lunch when Diane, my chem partner, pointed out Johnny in the crowd, leaning against my locker.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Why's Johnny Lawrence hanging around by your locker, Dawn?" Confusion came off her in waves. I wasn't popular, I wasn't a cheerleader, I wasn't Ali fucking Mills, therefore, why would Johnny even look twice at me, much less be hanging around the one place I was more or less guaranteed to be.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I don't think you'd believe me if I told you." I laughed.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hey, Johnny." I said, walking up to him and gently pushing him aside so I could open the door.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hey. Can we talk?" He looked at Diane, who was looking even more confused now she had confirmed Johnny was really waiting for me, of all people. "Mind giving us a minute?" He flashed his most charming smile.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I was surprised she didn't swoon, instead squeaking out a small "Okay!" and rushing off to her own locker down the hall.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Bye then!" I called after her as she abandoned me.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You still mad at me?" He asked when she was out of earshot. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I wasn't mad at you, Johnny." I said, shuffling some books around.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Sure seemed like it. You've been avoiding me." He sounded hurt. Ugh, that felt awful.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I shoved the locker door shut and secured it. "Yeah, I'm sorry, I have been. Not my finest moment."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Why? I thought things were good up until New Years Eve."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I gave him a pointed look. "And then what happened?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Look, it's been kinda weird, but can't we get past that?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I don't know. I guess. Can we talk about it later? I still need to eat."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny nodded. "Come sit with me?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I agreed, but it turned out <em>with him</em> included the rest of the ex-Cobras and now I felt like an interloper. At least they'd made up, I suppose.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Bobby was friendly, greeting me right off the bat with a little wave and a "Hey, Dawn."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I waved back. The other Cobras mostly just nodded in my general direction, apart from Dutch.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"C'mon man, I thought we said no chicks at the table." Dutch groused, leaning back in his seat.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"If you're gonna start bitching like a little girl, you probably don't wanna pull that thread." I laughed, because honestly fuck this dude, friend of Johnny's or not.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He grinned back at me. "Ooh, fiesty. I like it. She like this in bed, Johnny?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny looked more embarrassed than I was. His ears were pink. "Fuck off, man."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The other guys around the table were giggling.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh come on, you mean this one isn't putting out either?" Dutch was enjoying Johnny being uncomfortable. I got the impression it didn't happen often.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>If I was honest with myself, I thought it was cute, and I was willing to play along. "It's only been two weeks, Dutch. I'm not <em>that</em> slutty."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"But you are slutty?" Dutch waggled his eyebrows suggestively and I couldn't help but laugh.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"That's for me to know, and Johnny to find out." I took a long sip of my drink.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny was beet red when I looked across at him, his face somewhere between amused and mortified. <em>Oops</em>.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You good?" I asked quietly, nudging his knee under the table.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah. <em>Yeah</em>." He repeated, as though confirming it to himself as well.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The guys chatted amongst themselves for a while about their various classes, and I found myself without much to contribute. It was nice enough just listening while I ate lunch. Eventually the bell rang, so we packed our stuff up and separated, with Jimmy, Dutch, Tommy and Bobby all wandering off to different classes.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You want me to walk you to class?" Johnny asked when the others had walked off and we were alone.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Sure, as long as you're going the same way. Thanks."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"About what you were saying to Dutch..."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You were joking, right?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I thought about how to approach this. "Was he joking about Ali not putting out?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"No." He answered awkwardly, as though it were somehow a trick question.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"And there's your answer."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"But the other night. I thought you were a-"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I pulled him to the side so we didn't get caught in the throng of students filtering towards their classrooms. "A virgin? And you thought that's why I didn't want to?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny nodded, eyes fixed ahead.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah. About that. I freaked out in the moment, and I didn't know how to explain. This," I gestured between us, knowing he'd catch the movement in his peripheral vision, "this is really new to me. I've never... Like that."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What do you mean?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Oh God, I was dancing around this too much and fucking it up. I was really going to have to spell it out, wasn't I? "I mean I like you. A whole lot. And I don't know what I'm doing."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny smiled, the full force of that pretty blue gaze making me almost breathless. "I like you too, you know?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>A warm feeling flooded through me at hearing him say that, but I didn't want to get distracted either. "But you at least liked Ali before, right?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah. <em>Before</em>. Not now." He emphasized.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"But that's more than I have. You're the first."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"So you fucked some dude you didn't even like?" Johnny asked, almost a whisper, as if to preserve my reputation even though we were pretty much alone in the hall. And when he said it like that it sounded gross.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh, here comes the judgement. Fun."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"No, no. That's not what... I just didn't think girls did that. Unless they're like..."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Real sluts who you don't date seriously, just screw around with? Johnny, I just wanted to have fun and not get involved in anything messy so I could focus on school. Guys do that shit all the time. Is it only cool if they have to lie to the girl in the process?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny sighed heavily. "It's not like that. I am dating you, aren't I?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"And that's been pretty messy so far, hasn't it?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"So you don't want to date me?" Johnny sounded confused <em>and</em> hurt now, turning to me with his brow furrowed. I knew the feeling. I'd spent a good portion of the last couple of weeks confused, flipping between what I thought I wanted, what I thought I knew, and what I was feeling.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Of course I want to, but I am way out of my depth here."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Right. What can I do?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I don't know. Just go slow with me? I can't handle being on and off and fighting all the time. It sucks."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Alright. Meet me at my car after school? We can go to the mall."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Sure. That sounds good."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The bell rang again and we had to rush off to our classes, but not before Johnny kissed me on the forehead and promised he'd see me later.</p>
</div><hr/>
<p></p><div>
  <p>"Oh, that's pretty."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>We'd been wandering around the mall together for a while when I saw a black leather jacket in the window of a small boutique, and I had pretty much fallen in love with it instantly.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You want it?" Johnny walked into the store ahead of me. I'd only meant to covet the jacket from the window.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Johnny, it's gonna be way too expensive." I caught a glimpse of the price tag when he looked. "<em>Jesus</em>."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He held up the jacket, and oh God, it was my size too. The only one in the store. "Try it on."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I put it on and Johnny pushed me in front of a mirror. It looked incredible. I looked like fucking Cher. I could feel myself about to cry. It was way too much.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I met Johnny's eyes in the mirror and he seemed determined, biting his lower lip like he did when he was concentrating on something at work. "You look amazing, babe. You're getting the jacket."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I was set to argue, but he gave me a glare that I didn't dare test him on. I slipped it back off my shoulders and allowed him to take it to the counter while I stood around awkwardly, feeling overwhelmed and trying not to hyperventilate. He handed me the jacket once we were back outside and I wore it immediately. I didn't think I'd ever want to take it off.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I can't believe you just did that." I said, stroking the arm with my fingertips reverently.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Why not? Sid's money should be useful for something." Johnny shrugged. "Plus you look hot. Totally selfish purchase."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He pulled me in against his side and it was way too tempting to pull us to a stop and hug him properly.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You're amazing. I mean you were amazing before, but this... This is... Whoa." I said, muffled against his shoulder.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He puffed up at that. He started playing with a strand of my hair, wrapping the curl around his finger. "Just want to see my girl happy."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Your girl, huh?" I pulled back to look at his face.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah. Problem?" He asked, looking smug as all get-out.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"None at all." I blew out a breath. I was Johnny's girl. He'd said that. "As far as first boyfriends go, you're setting the bar really high, though."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What I'm hearing is that I should spoil you more."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"If you're trying to ruin all other men for me forever? Sure."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>A devilish grin lit up those beautiful features. "Perfect."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I let him go and we walked over to the fountain, sitting on the edge side by side.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"So we're really doing this?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah. I like you, you like me. Why not, right? And I am going to try to, like, talk about stuff."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Cool. Because what I know about what happened sounds super fucked up and I know the full story is probably worse." I leaned my head against his arm.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I felt Johnny nod rather than saw it. "It was." He looked at his watch. "I should get you home. Wanna come over tomorrow and study? We're doing Pride and Prejudice too and I could use the help getting through all the old English chick speak."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I'm working tomorrow, remember? But after?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah, great."</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. The Power Of Love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div>
  <p>
    <b>Tuesday 8th January, 1985.</b>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"So they don't even like each other for half of the book? And this is supposed to be romantic?" Johnny asked, lying back on his bed with my book held up above him, looking for some other insight from my notes in the margins.</p>
  <p>My head rested on his other arm as I looked at the bits he'd highlighted in his copy of the text.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"It's <em>way</em> romantic. They spend all that time slowly falling in love and pining for each other. He saves Lizzie's family from being totally disgraced, and he doesn't even tell people about it. He thinks he's already blown his chance with her but he does it anyway."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I guess. Seems pretty convenient that she thinks he's a jerkoff then falls in love with him right after she sees his giant house, though."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"But it's not just the building! It's seeing where he grew up, and the housekeeper that speaks fondly of him when she doesn't need to. Lizzie's already conflicted about him being nice to her because it's at odds with what she thinks she knows, and bit by bit she finds out he's actually a good man."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"And the fact he's rich had <em>nothing</em> to do with it?" I couldn't see Johnny's eyes but I'd put money on him rolling them.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I mean, she says she doesn't want to marry for comfort or convenience. She turned down Collins who could have provided her a good lifestyle but was kind of a douchebag."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny hummed thoughtfully. "What about you? Would <em>you</em> marry for money?" He asked the question so casually it was easy to forget that his own mom definitely didn't marry Sid for his looks or personality.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I don't think so. And that's <em>if</em> I ever got married, which I don't see happening unless someone lives up to crazy-high Mr. Darcy standards."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Alright, I'll just put 'save reputation of your idiot sister by paying some asshole to marry her' on my to-do list... Wait, you don't have a sister, do you?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I do, but the jury's out on her being an idiot. She's 6 and I've only met her, like, twice."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Alright, I'll pencil it in." Johnny turned his face to kiss me on the forehead and discarded the book on the bed beside him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I craned my head way back to make eye contact. "Do you want to get married? Like, not to me specifically, in general."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I guess, if the right girl ever wanted to.Or if we had a kid, I'd do the right thing."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"My mom and dad's divorce was <em>so</em> shitty, it made me not wanna. You spend 15 years of your life loving someone and they just fuck off out of the blue, then you spend the next two to five years chasing them to sign bits of paper and fighting about who gets your ancient coffee maker. Fuck that."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I never knew my real dad. Sid is pretty much all I've had on that front and, yeah, not great."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Being married doesn't make someone a good parent. My dad didn't give a shit, even before he left." I could feel the residual annoyance from my own shitty paternal relationship bubbling up and over into righteous indignation that Johnny's dad wasn't around for him either, leaving him stuck with Sid. "I don't understand how people can do that. Just fucking leave a kid behind. It's fucked."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny laced his fingers through mine and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. He was really surprisingly zen about the whole thing. I guess he'd had longer to deal with it. "I dunno, it's whatever. Wanna call it a night? I don't wanna start my essay this late."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>It was only 7, but I decided to let him have this one since I wasn't in the mood to start mine either.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah, sure. You want me to head home now? My mom isn't home til late, so I can hang for a bit if you like."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What are you thinkin'?" Johnny's tone turned flirtatious. He rolled onto his side to face me properly and shifted me slightly along with him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"We could watch a movie?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"If that's what you want, yeah." Johnny brushed my hair to the side and pressed little butterfly kisses against my jawline, indicating that he was thinking of other things.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You could come over to mine? Smaller TV, but empty house. I'd offer to let you stay the night, but I'm pretty sure half the school will implode if they see me arrive with you."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Let 'em. Don't care." He murmured against my ear between kisses, slipping his arm out from beneath me and climbing on top of me for better access to the other side of my face.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I forgot, you're immune to giving a shit about what people think. The whole world could burn down and you'd be all 'it's whatever' about it." My voice came out just slightly breathless as I struggled not to show how much this gentle seduction was effecting me.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yup. Easy when I've got a smoking hot babe in my bed."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He ghosted a hand just barely over my collarbone. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>It was nice, knowing that Johnny would at least pretend that nobody else mattered when we were here like this. I didn't know how much of it was bravado and how much was true, but I also didn't really care either at this moment, while he was working his mouth down my neck and his hand crept up under my shirt, pushing it up until they met at my chest.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>God, he was good at this. Playing me like a fiddle, his fingertips danced their way up my bare torso until he reached the cloth of my bra.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Is this okay?" He asked. "You can tell me to stop."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I nodded my consent and he kept going. We'd done this before, but it was infinitely better this time. Johnny kept looking back to me and paid extra attention to the sounds I made for any hint of discomfort as he explored my body.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I wanna kiss you everywhere." He almost moaned as his mouth hovered over the skin between my breasts. "You make me so fucking hard."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>If he was even half as turned on as I was right now, we wouldn't make it past second base.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Jesus, Johnny..." The words trailed off as I grasped for the rest of the sentence and came up short.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He was sliding down the bed now, nestling himself between my legs and littering my stomach with kisses until he reached the waistband of my jeans. His hair felt impossibly soft brushing against my skin.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"We don't have to do anything else 'til you're ready," he reassured me, staring up at me with those big blue eyes full of desire. "I just wanna make you feel good."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Fuck." I groaned, totally lost for words that weren't some degree of profanity of blasphemy.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny laughed. <em>What an asshole</em>.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>In lieu of any actual speech, I grabbed him by the arms and yanked him up on top of me again. I kissed him hungrily, needing to show him exactly how goddamn much I needed him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I felt every delicious inch of him up against me, hard enough to hurt through the layers of fabric between us. Shit, I felt like I'd die if we stopped right now, but going further felt insurmountable. My breath caught in my throat when he slid his hands under my ass and pulled me closer still.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Too much?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>My brain fired off every possible answer in my search for how I felt. <em>Yes. No. I don't know. </em><em>Maybe. </em>I groaned and let my head fall back against the mattress. <em>So goddamn frustrating.</em></p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I think so. Can we take a minute?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny pulled back, leaving me aching in his absence and suppressing a whimper.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>My body was fully on Johnny's team, but my useless fucking mind was still freaking out at the enormity of what it might mean to make love to someone I loved.</p>
  <p>
    <em>Did I love Johnny?</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>How was I supposed to know? </em>
  </p>
  <p>I certainly felt the stirrings of something pulling at my heartstrings whenever he looked at me, and it was never more intense than right now, when he was looking at me with concerned blue eyes and I was splayed out underneath him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>We breathed heavily, staring at each other for a long moment and trying to get ourselves under control.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What movie do you want to watch?" I asked weakly.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I just bought Repo Man?" He offered.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I hadn't seen it at the theatre but I was familiar with the premise and it sounded cool. "Yeah, that sounds good."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Alright. Just gimme a second," he said, standing up and adjusting himself in his jeans, "I'll grab the video."</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Jump</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div>
  <p>
    <b>Wednesday 9th January, 1985.</b>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>My alarm went off. I tried to roll out of bed and was met with a solid boy-shaped wall of muscle up against me. <em>Johnny</em>, I smiled to myself, remembering he had stayed over again last night, the two of us squeezed into my twin bed before my mom got home.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I cracked one eye open to find him frowning, eyes shut tight and unwilling to open.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Morning, handsome." I giggled at the sight of him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He cracked a smile and nuzzled into my hair, piled into a bun high on top of my head. "Hey there." He murmured sleepily.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"We have to get up for school." I reminded him, pushing gently to free up a little space to climb out through. It didn't work, and Johnny wrapped one strong arm around me to trap me in place. "5 minutes."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Come on, don't be a jerk, I'm gonna be late." I complained, squirming against him. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He put his thigh over mine, pinning me more firmly in response.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Johnny!" I whined, and then felt his morning wood against my belly. "Jesus Christ, let me up. Before we're here all day. Some of us care about our grades, Mr. Athletic Scholarships."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I've gotta take a piss anyway." Johnny laughed and rolled me on top of him, giving me enough of an advantage to slide the rest of the way off the bed and land unceremoniously on the floor.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I went about my morning routine pretty much as usual - I got dressed, did my hair, put on makeup. The only real difference was I put two cups out for coffee and an extra couple of slices of bread in the toaster. While I stood in the kitchen, Johnny emerged from the bathroom dressed and looking just as gorgeous as the night before.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hey, babe." Johnny whispered as he came over to embrace me from behind.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hey." I was trying to pour coffee and this was making it hard to keep a steady hand.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"This sweater is cute." Johnny tugged at the shoulder of the woolen top with his fingertips. "You look good in yellow."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Honey, I <em>always</em> look good." I joked.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny hummed approvingly.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I swatted his hand away when he started tugging my top out of where it was tucked into my jeans, and thank God, because my mom chose that moment to come out of her room in her big fluffy pink robe.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Good morning, kids." She said, taking a deep breath of the coffee wafting through the air.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I grabbed another cup for her. "Morning, Mom. We didn't wake you did we?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny at least had the decency to step back from me a little and look awkward.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Mom, this is Johnny. Johnny this is my mom."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Great to meet you, Ms. Blake." Johnny turned the charm up to 11, flashing her a huge smile. "I can see where Dawn got her looks."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh no, mister, you save that flirting for my Dawnie here." Mom laughed. "And call me Patsy."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yes, ma'am." He grinned. "I mean, Patsy."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I poured my mom's coffee and handed it to her, black and bitter. I needed an unholy amount of cream and sugar in my coffee to make it tolerable, and Johnny loaded his coffee in pretty much the same way I had mine. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>As we sat on the sofa, sipped our coffee, and ate our toast, I was struck by how alarmingly, wonderfully, comfortably domestic this was. While my mom pottered around, Johnny and I split the paper. He took the sports section and I grabbed the page with the horoscopes.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny looked over at what I was doing. "What's mine?" He asked.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Which sign?" I don't know why it hadn't occurred to me that I didn't know when his birthday was.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Leo."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Huh. Same. <em>There can be some disconnects to manage today, dear Leo. Aim to learn more about yourself and your feelings through differences in values or ideals. </em>Sufficiently vague?" I asked. "How are things in sports?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny shrugged. "Sports sucks. Wait, what day is your birthday?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"17th August. You?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"20th."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"No shit?! I've got myself a boy-toy? You hear this Mom? Johnny's my younger man!" I giggled hysterically, overjoyed that I wasn't actually the youngest in our year. I usually was. My mom's laughter rang through the apartment.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah, laugh it up, old lady." Johnny snarked, his stomach moving a little as he chuckled.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I looked at my watch on instinct. <em>Fuck</em>. I downed the rest of my sickly sweet, milky coffee in one go. Good shit. "We need to leave, now."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny was up before I knew it, fumbling to grab his car keys out of his pocket with one hand and his backpack from the floor with the other. I ran off to my room to grab my bag and kissed my mom on the cheek quickly as we ran out the door.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Pick a tape." Johnny instructed after we'd quickly piled into the Firebird. He'd started letting me pick the music when we drove together, and I'd crammed a few of my own tapes in amongst his to compensate for the lack of variety.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He pretended he was about to bitch when I threw in Gang of Four's <em>Hard,</em> but I cut him off.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You told me to pick. Eat me."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He rolled his eyes, but I heard him chuckle quietly to himself.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Still, when the vocals on <em>Is It Love?</em> came through, I noticed him mouthing the words out of the corner of my eye.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"How do you know this?" I asked curiously.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You put it on one of the work mixtapes."</p>
</div><div>
  <p><em>Oh, yeah. </em>I'd forgotten<em>. </em>"Huh. I thought you didn't like stuff like this."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Guess it's rubbing off on me."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You're developing taste via osmosis?" I feigned shock, nearly swooning like a southern belle with awe at the revelation.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Cool it with the nerd shit, babe." Johnny smirked, and winked at me.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>What a cocky little fuck.</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>We pulled up in the school parking lot and I immediately felt people looking when I got out of the car. This was fucking weird. Very, very uncool. Didn't they have their own shit to worry about?</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"See you at lunch?" Johnny asked, snapping my attention back to him like a rubber band.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Sure. Think Dutch is gonna have a stick up his ass about it again?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"No, you were shitty back to him last time. I think he likes you now." Johnny laughed, as though perplexed by his dumbass friend and how he related to women.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Well, he made it easy, what can I say?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny kissed me softly on the lips and ran off to his first class, leaving me to figure out what I was doing now.</p>
</div><hr/>
<p></p><div>
  <p>I was leaving history class when a couple of girls from the class called my name behind me. "Dawn!" I turned around to see a skinny blonde, a few inches taller than me, maybe 5'6.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah? Donna, right?" I asked of the blonde. I didn't know the other ones name and wasn't terribly inclined to care.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Heard Johnny Lawrence gave you a ride to school." She was talking as if we were friends, as if I'd owe her some kind of explaination.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah. He did."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What's that all about?" Her taller brunette friend asked.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Pretty sure it's the kind of thing boyfriends do."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You're shitting me?" The blonde scoffed. "You're dating Johnny Lawrence?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"<em>I dunno</em>. Why don't you take it up with him? I'm off to lunch."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>They followed as I walked towards the cafeteria. We all spotted Johnny and his boys around the same time. I ran up to Johnny and threw my arms around his shoulders, my momentum was stronger than I'd been expecting and what had been intended as an enthusiastic hug became a leap into his arms. He grabbed my thighs and wrapped them around his hips, hiking me up higher than I'd have managed alone. I squealed as he spun me around and kissed me.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What did I do to deserve that?" Johnny asked, confused, letting me back down to the ground.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Just getting the third degree. Figured actions are better than words." I grinned, smug as all fuck, and waved at the girls, who looked positively green with envy. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dutch realised what was going on before the others, his voice holding a hint of admiration when he spoke. "Dawn! I knew you were a bitch, but holy shit! Congrats!"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Suck it, Dutch." I glared, but there was no real anger. Dutch was an asshole, but he loved Johnny, like everyone who really knew Johnny did, and if any real animosity had been there it might have been an issue. So there wasn't.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny looked less impressed with Dutch calling me a bitch. I flicked him with the backs of my fingers. "Hey. Not the problem. It's not Dutch's fault those girls over there couldn't believe we were a thing."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>We all settled at a table, with lunches either from home or the godforsaken cafeteria, and the guys fell into easy conversation.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Bobby was having some issue with some girl or another that seemed like complete nonsense. The boys were hopped up on macho bullshit and were encouraging him to be a massive pain in the girl's ass.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You like her, right?" I asked Bobby.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He nodded.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"So whats the issue? You flash her those pretty baby blues, you flutter your eyelashes, you tell her you'll do whatever she wants, and you act <em>just</em> pussy-whipped <em>enough</em> until she relents. At which point she hopefully knows enough about what a sweet and loving boy you are that she gets over the asshole tendencies."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jimmy sat back in his seat like I blew his mind. "Whoa. Girls like that shit?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Whodathunkit? Women are people who want boys to be nice to them?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"That how Johnny got around you?" Tommy asked.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"No. He really <em>is </em>whipped." I cackled.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny shoved me playfully. "You wish."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I made a kissy-face at him and leaned over to plant one on his cheek. </p>
</div><div><p>The boys acted horrified at the public display of affection, like they hadn't been talking pretty graphically about trying to get into a girl's pants not that long ago.</p>
<hr/></div><div>
  <p>The period that should have been PE was eventful. They'd somehow got the whole year group together on the school field for some kind of urgent lecture on sex education. I guess some of the teens in our year had caught crabs, and now it was spreading like wildfire among the more promiscuous.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Ali ended up standing near me and apparently took the opportunity to corner me after.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You're Dawn, right? We met at Johnny's mom's Christmas party?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I nodded. It didn't serve much purpose to be unfriendly right now, right? "Yup. Ali, yeah?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I heard you and Johnny made it official." She said.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I guess word spreads fast."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Ali looked uncomfortable, like it pained her to say whatever she was about to. "Look, I don't want to overstep but-" <em>she was going to, wasn't she?</em> "Johnny can be an ass, but deep down he's a really nice guy. I don't want to see him hurt."</p>
</div><div>
  <p><em>Any more than she'd hurt him? </em>I wondered.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Please be careful with him."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I sighed heavily. I didn't want to be harsh, especially since she seemed to mean well, but this was complete bullshit. "Ali. You broke up with Johnny, and you pretty much forfeited all rights to be concerned about his romantic life when you started dating Daniel. I like Johnny, I will be as good to him as I can, but I honestly am not in the mood for a lecture from his ex."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She winced. Maybe too far, but I thought it was reasonable. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You're right. I'm sorry, I just..." She drifted off.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"It's okay. We're good. Go hang with your friends." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Ali nodded and then shifted sort of nervously. "This is kinda out there, but it'd be nice if you ever wanted to go shopping together? Girls day?" She was extending an olive branch but it wasn't one I felt comfortable taking.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I would, but I don't think Johnny would be cool with that."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You're right, I understand. I know how Johnny can be."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>A horrifyingly funny thought popped into my mind. "You know what would be really messed up? If we double dated, you and Daniel and Johnny and me. They'd about shit themselves." I chuckled.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Maybe we should suggest it just to see them squirm." Ali smiled, not quite cruelly but certainly finding <em>some</em> amusement in torturing her ex and current boyfriend.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"So why did you break up with Johnny?" Curiosity was getting the better of me, and I had an opportunity that may not come around again.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"He forgot my birthday, but that was just the last thing, you know? We dated for two years, and it was pretty much one long fight."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Interesting. That scanned, I mean, Johnny hadn't been exactly all about the healthy communication with me either. It was something we were both working on.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Speak of the devilishly handsome and he shall appear, though, and I noticed Johnny heading this way.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"It was really nice chatting, Ali." I started to excuse myself. "Don't be a stranger, yeah?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah. Thanks for hearing me out."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I walked briskly over to Johnny to spare him the awkward small talk. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What were you doing talking to Ali?" He asked, expression guarded.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I wasn't going to tell him she'd been trying to lecture me about being nice to him, that seemed like it would probably piss him off more than it had pissed me off. I wasn't above a half-truth, though. "She was just being friendly. What do you think, should we double date with her and Daniel?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny looked nauseous at the idea.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I laughed. "Kidding."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I don't think I like you talking to her." He frowned.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh man, that sucks, because you don't control who I talk to." I was kind of annoyed by the attempt.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The frown deepened and he remained silent.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh, <em>come on</em>. Ali and I aren't girlfriends, Johnny, and we never will be. We only have one thing in common. But I'm not going to blank her when she's trying to be nice either."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny grumbled, apparently seeing my point but unhappy about it. "Alright."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You want to go out this weekend? No double dates. I promise. We could go see a movie?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>That perked him up. "Yeah? I heard Toto did the soundtrack for <em>Dune</em>. Wanna see it?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hell yes. It's a date, then."</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Something I Learned Today</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just a short one, today.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Saturday 12th January, 1985.</strong>
</p><p>Johnny had a soccer game, so I’d been roped into covering his shift. Not that it was an issue, I had actually missed working with Mitch. Just the two of us in the store together, just like old times. I was sweeping the floors when he caught my attention by clearing his throat.</p><p>“You thought about your college applications yet?”</p><p>“No. I was planning on talking to Mom about it later. She wants to take me on some campus tours, but I was only planning on applying to Northridge. Why?”<br/>
<br/>
“Ah, just wondering.” Mitch never <em>just wondered.</em> He had an angle and he was just working up to it, I was certain. It made me suspicious. "My friend's little girl just graduated from Stanford. They have a good business program?"</p><p>"They're one of the best schools in the state. It's not like I'd stand a chance of getting in. Besides, it's too far away, I'd have to quit working here and you know how I live for the lukewarm, bitter shit you call coffee."</p><p>Mitch laughed. "Nothing to do with your big blonde puppy-dog at all.”<br/>
<br/>
I feigned shock. “Are you implying there’s something going on between Johnny and me? That would be <em>really</em> unprofessional of me, Mitch.”</p><p>“Cut the shit, kiddo. You’re not as subtle as you think you are, and you shouldn’t stick around here for some boy. We’ll cope without you. You've got the grades for Stanford, haven’t you?"</p><p>I probably did. I wasn’t straight-As across the board but I got enough where it counted that I was pretty confident my small handful of Bs wouldn't ruin things. "I guess, but it’s way competitive. I want to go to Northridge anyway, it seems kinda dumb to apply for a better school as a back-up."</p><p>“So maybe it’s not a back-up, then. I don't fuckin’ see what you've got to lose by going. C'mon, Dee. You deserve better than this place."</p><p>"Mitch..." <em>I love this place</em>. The words died in my throat when he turned away and went back to the office.</p>
<hr/><p>I couldn't shake the feeling that the conversation left me with, even when Johnny picked me up for our date after work. He'd been home and showered, arriving in beige chinos and a dark blue sweater that highlighted the broadness of his shoulders and the colour of his eyes.</p><p>I'd slapped some extra makeup on in the bathroom, and I had dressed up a bit more than usual for work. A soft purple sweater, black denim skirt, and doc martens to go with the leather jacket Johnny had bought me that I, so predictably, wore everywhere now.</p><p>Trying to suppress my shitty mood ended up being futile, especially as Johnny kept shooting me concerned looks. We’d just made it to the popcorn stand when I finally relented.</p><p>“Mitch wants me to apply to Stanford.” The rubber sole of my boot squeaked against the floor where I was idly kicking at nothing.</p><p>“Yeah? Are you going to?”</p><p>“I don’t know. I feel like I owe him to at least try. He’s done a lot for me.”</p><p>Johnny nodded, encouraging me to continue. I’d told him that before.</p><p>“I just don’t get it. Everything I’ve planned has been about staying at Viper, I’ve poured so much time and energy and love into that store, and then he tells me that I deserve better. It feels fucked up, like it doesn’t matter what I want.”</p><p>“He just wants what’s best for you.” I could tell Johnny was trying to be reassuring when he put his hand on my lower back, and I leaned into that warmth.</p><p>"I just wish he'd share how he thinks he knows that. I barely know what's best for me and I am me."</p><p>"You're smart. You could do anything, go anywhere. More opportunities for a Stanford grad."</p><p>"Is it so shitty that I want to stay here? I want to run my own store one day. I want to run <em>Viper.</em> I don't need a degree from Stanford for that."</p><p>"But shit happens. Things don’t always work out, and a degree from a better school might be useful."</p><p>"If I end up going to Stanford, I'll barely see you." I didn't even know where Johnny was planning on applying. We'd talked about both applying to Northridge, but he had other options and potential soccer scholarships further away too, some his Mom and Sid had been pushing for. </p><p>"It's still in the same state. We'll make it work, whatever happens. Come on, let's enjoy the film."</p>
<hr/><p><em>Dune</em> was great. Johnny had gone in apprehensive about it being nerd shit, but the campness of it had won him over in the end. I buried my face in Johnny’s side when Paul put his hand in the box during the whole <em>fear is the mind-killer</em> bit. We left the theatre smiling from ear to ear and chatting happily, my bad mood washed away by the movie.</p><p>We headed back to his place after, since we weren’t at school the next day, and ordered takeout.</p><p>“What’s up?” I asked when I noticed Johnny looking at me funny.</p><p>“Nothing. Thinking.”</p><p>“What about?”</p><p>“College. We could go to the same place, get an apartment off campus together. We could start a band. We could do anything.”</p><p>I laughed softly, affectionately. “Johnny, you can’t play any instruments, can you?”</p><p>He shrugged. “I could learn guitar.”</p><p>I could see that; Johnny up on stage with girls fawning over him. I had no musical talent whatsoever though, so maybe not the best choice of couple’s hobby. It was nice that he was thinking of us being together, though. It was nice to dream.</p><p>“You want to live with me?”</p><p>“Seems better than living with anyone else.”</p><p>He was right, it did. “Okay. If we get into the same university and your mom wouldn’t kill us for living together before marriage.”</p><p>“She likes you, you know? She never liked Ali that much.”</p><p>“Really?” That was surprisingly touching.</p><p>Johnny nodded, and I believed him. “Yeah. Ali and I were always fighting. It wasn’t all her fault, a lot of it was me. Kreese really messed with my head.”</p><p>“I’m glad things are different, now.” I said, reaching out for his hand. “It doesn’t sound like you were that happy then.”</p><p>Johnny shook his head. “I was, kind of, but I didn’t know how to be happy without being angry half the time.”</p><p>“But things are better now?”</p><p>He smiled. “Yeah. It’s early days, but yeah.”</p><p>“Good.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. You Took The Words Right Out Of My Mouth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter is so romantic that I feel like it punched me in the solar plexus. Gets a bit NSFW about halfway through. Enjoy.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Thursday, 14th February, 1985.</strong>
</p><p>The last few weeks had slipped by in a blur of school, work, studying, and the occasional date. Johnny and I were pretty much joined at the hip, spending nearly every waking moment together that we weren't in class. I'd even gone to a few soccer games. Having figured out that the subjects I didn't always get were the ones that he was better at (especially anything even remotely related to sports or physical fitness), we made a really good team. Bit by bit by bit, we'd become completely inseparable.</p>
<p></p><div class="">
  <p>Sometimes when we spent the night together, I'd wake up to find Johnny tossing and turning, choking in a nightmare. He'd wake up panicked, reaching out for me and curling up against my chest as he remembered how to breathe. It was in those moments, as I stroked his hair and reminded him "I'm here, I've got you," as I felt so fiercely protective of him that it overwhelmed me, that I knew I really was in love.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Mitch hadn't stopped dropping hints about Stanford. I'd found a brochure and application pack on the counter when I walked in to work one day. Feeling the pressure, I'd filled it in one afternoon and sent it off with Johnny's blessing. He sent in his own not long after. I didn't expect to get in, to be honest, Johnny stood a better chance than I did. At this point, his grades were almost on par with mine <em>and</em> he had the edge of being a great student-athlete. Stanford had a spectacular sports medicine program, and he had settled on doing something along those lines. His family could afford it, too, whereas if I went to Stanford, I'd be almost entirely reliant on financial aid and student loans despite my savings.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Regardless, Valentine's Day had come around at last, and in amongst the stress of preparing for our futures, Johnny insisted on doing something romantic.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The weekend before, he'd stuffed a hundred dollar bill down my bra when we were fooling around, and then insisted I buy myself an outfit for our date with a smirk and a <em>"Buy yourself s</em><em>omething </em><em>pretty, sweetheart."</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I'd slapped him gently on the arm for the tacky phrasing, but laughed and agreed because I knew it pleased him. Johnny liked taking care of me, and it took a lot of getting used to, but I wanted to see him happy.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>Something pretty</em> ended up being a plain black velvet dress, almost 50s-style, with a sweetheart neckline, which flared out from its cinched waist and skimmed just below my knee.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I paired it with sheer black stockings with a back seam and patent leather pumps. Not quite on trend, but timeless enough that when I let my curls fall around my shoulders, I was pretty confident I wouldn't look out of place anywhere we went. Which was still a secret.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Johnny picked me up at 7, gorgeous as always in dress pants, white shirt and black skinny tie to compliment the herringbone blazer that fit him <em>perfectly</em>. He was carrying a dozen red roses, beautifully arranged in a bouquet. "These are for you."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Wow," I gasped. "They're beautiful."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Beautiful flowers for my beautiful girl." </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I blushed, totally defenseless against this kind of assault on my emotions, no matter how cheesy. "Come in. I need to put these in water."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>There was a vase under the kitchen sink, which I filled and used for the flowers.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"So where are we going?" I asked, grabbing my purse.</p>
</div><div class=""><p>"You'll see."</p>
<hr/></div><div class="">
  <p>He must have been planning this for weeks, or at least had his mom pull some strings, because he managed to bag us a table for two at Spago on the Sunset Strip. The restaurant was packed with couples, and it was a safe bet we were the only people there not old enough to drink.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"My mom said this place would be a good idea." Johnny said conspiratorially across the table. <em>Yep, so strings had been pulled.</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"It's really nice." And it was, the place was buzzing. Fun, not stuffy, just the other side of casual. With the open kitchen, it felt more like a theatrical production than a restaurant. It certainly wasn't somewhere your average teenage couple went on dates.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I looked at the menu, discovering that it was mostly Italian food with fancy ingredients, including pasta topped with salmon and caviar, an artichoke and eggplant calzone, and some other stuff that was both familiar and intimidating at once. It wasn't insanely expensive, either, not that Johnny gave a damn.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It was. So<em>. </em>Fucking<em>. Romantic.</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Johnny was fully focused on being the perfect gentleman all evening, from the flowers, to pulling out my chair for me to sit, to picking up the cheque and leaving a sizable tip for the wait staff. If this was some ploy to get into my pants, then I would happily admit it was working.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Johnny drove us back to my place since my mom was at work. I wanted to be able to exchange gifts in private.</p>
  <p>My mom, God bless her, had a bottle of white wine in the fridge waiting for us. She'd given me a rather stern speech about underage drinking, and then at the end surprised me by saying <em>if </em>we drank, she'd rather neither of us were driving, and we didn't get in trouble. I poured us a glass each and led Johnny by the hand through to my bedroom, where his Valentine's gift was laid out on my bed.</p>
  <p>My heart was beating so fast I could hardly stand it. I was so nervous that I drained my glass in one, directing Johnny towards his present with my other hand. He placed his glass carefully on my nightstand, almost full, so I set my empty one alongside it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I hadn't bothered with wrapping paper, since the shape was kind of a giveaway, but I'd splurged a little and bought a case so that there was at least a little suspense when he unzipped it. Inside, on a bed of cushioned velour, sat a red Fender Telecaster. "You said you wanted to learn guitar, so..."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"This is awesome. Thanks, babe." Johnny's eyes lit up, and it was definitely worth the hassle I'd gone to trying to find the red one. His favorite color. He leaned over to kiss me, and warmth spread through my whole body. It felt extremely good to surprise him for a change.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Johnny zipped up the case and placed it gently on the floor, then fished a box out of his jacket pocket. It was smaller than the guitar, obviously, and square. He hadn't bothered gift-wrapping either, so at least I wasn't alone.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I popped the box open to find a delicate black and gold watch inside, on a black leather strap. My jaw dropped. It was stunning - I was rendered literally speechless.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Look at the back." Johnny instructed quietly, his voice wavering just enough that I realized he was nervous too.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I pulled the watch out and turned it over in my hands. The back was engraved,</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>DB, How ardently I admire and love you. </em> <em>JL.</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fuck<em>. </em>I'd stopped breathing. I felt tears roll down my cheeks before I knew they were in my eyes. My God<em>. </em><em>My heart. </em>We hadn't said those three small words out loud to each other, and here he'd basically engraved them onto a gift that I'd want to wear every day for the rest of my life. Jesus Christ.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"What's wrong?" Johnny asked, brushing a tear away from my face with his thumb.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I hauled in a deep breath, not trusting myself to speak or even to look away from the watch.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Do you hate it?" He sounded so worried. "If you don't feel the same way, we can forget it."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I took another deep breath and looked up to find real concern in the oceanic depths of his eyes.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I'll get you something else." He pulled his hand away.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I grabbed it back and held it against my cheek, planting a gentle kiss on the inside of his wrist.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"What does this mean?" I asked, holding up the watch, needing to hear him confirm it with words.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"It means I love you."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>My heart nearly jumped out of my chest.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Do you love me, too?" Johnny sounded so fucking vulnerable that I felt a little angry at myself for letting him doubt it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Have I ever given you reason to think that I am anything but hopelessly, madly, entirely in love with you, Johnny Lawrence? <em>Of course</em> I love you."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"<em>Good</em>. That's good." He laughed, his giddy relief washing over both of us. "Here, let me help you put this on."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I held out my wrist and Johnny buckled the strap snugly around it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I stood on shaky legs and held out a hand to Johnny. He took it, unfolding to his full height in one smooth motion.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I wanted to take you dancing, too, but I didn't know if you liked dancing."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I don't mind it." I admitted. "I'm just not very good."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Me neither... Wait, I have an idea. Back in a sec." Johnny rushed off out the front door, leaving me confused.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>After a while he returned from the car, tape in hand. Journey's <em>Frontiers</em> album. He turned on my stereo and placed the tape carefully in the deck, clicking it shut with determination. He fast forwarded through the first 4 songs, landing just before the start of Faithfully, while I stood beside him, amused.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"May I have this dance?" He asked, offering his hand, and I couldn't help but giggle. I took it, stumbling slightly when he pulled me close, and he steadied me against him. We slow danced for the duration of the song, my head resting against his shoulder and his arms around me.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I felt my eyes getting a little damp again - I probably looked a mess by now, all leaky mascara running down my face. "Thank you for tonight. It's been perfect."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You deserve it." Johnny said simply, tilting my chin up to so I had to look at him. "But I wish you'd stop crying. Not really what I was going for." He teased.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I shoved him playfully, but he didn't budge. "I'm just <em>really</em> happy. I can't help it."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Johnny grinned.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Oh, don't be smug."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I can't help it." He mimicked. <em>Bastard</em>.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I stood on tip-toes, balancing with my hands on his shoulders, to kiss him, pressing my lips against his and then teasing them open with my tongue. He followed me down as I lowered myself to my normal height and took control of the kiss when I was steady on my feet again. We stayed like that for a while, just enjoying the moment, until Johnny pressed his hand against my lower back and I felt the hardening length of him against my abdomen.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Hey there." I murmured into his mouth when we came up for air.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Hey yourself." His voice came out hoarse, where mine was breathy.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You wanna-"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Johnny nodded enthusiastically, cutting me off.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I hadn't even finished speaking, but we'd done this particular dance a few times before and now he anticipated the steps.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I carefully loosened Johnny's tie enough to undo the button at his shirt collar, then followed down to the next one, then the next. Impatient, he slipped the tie over his head and his jacket off his shoulders, and threw them both into the corner of the room. I loosened the last button, and Johnny's shirt followed them.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You're so damn handsome." I whispered, my hand spread wide across his pectoral muscle, over his heart.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Johnny chuckled, stroking the backs of his fingers against the swell of my breast just above the neckline of my dress. I had to admit my cleavage looked good.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Thanks, babe." He kissed my cheek, surprisingly chaste for someone shirtless in my bedroom. "Did I mention how hot you look in this dress? Good choice."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"No, but you can now." I teased.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"So hot." Johnny looked at me with so much barely-veiled lust in his expression, I felt like all the air had gone out of the room, or I'd forgotten how to breathe, or whatever fucking bullshit metaphor for feeling like I'd fucking <em>die</em> without more of him right now.</p>
  <p>My head swam as I thought about my next move.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Can I?" I asked, stroking the palm of my hand over the bulge in his pants.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Johnny's mouth fell open and he nodded, barely perceptibly, as he let out a shaky breath.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, letting them pool around his ankles, and dropped to my knees in front of him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Dawn? Babe?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I looked up as I ran my hands up the outside of his legs, enjoying the fine coating of blonde hair and the warm softness of his skin. "Yes?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You sure?" He asked nervously, reaching down to trace my jawline.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I laughed quietly to myself, because <em>yes,</em> <em>of course</em> I was sure. I was taking the lead, wasn't I? It had taken so long for me to get to this point that I felt ridiculous for being so apprehensive about it now that I finally had. If there was a right moment to go beyond clumsy groping through our clothing, this was it, when we'd finally admitted our feelings to each other.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yes." I repeated. "Are you?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I pressed a gentle kiss to the hard length of him through the fabric, looking up for his approval after. Johnny let out a noise somewhere between awe and desire.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>His hand ventured further along my cheek, his thumb tracing the outline of my lips. A mischievous idea came to mind, and I captured it between my teeth, teasing the pad with my tongue then suckling lightly.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Fuck." Johnny uttered, and I giggled around the digit in my mouth before releasing it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He ran a trembling hand through my hair as I pressed kisses to this thigh, his hip, alongside the little trail of hair that ran down from his navel, until I reached the waistband of his underwear. Confident we were both on the same page, I tugged at the elastic and slid them down his long, muscular legs. His erection sprang forth, long and thick and flushed pink and looking oh so terribly inviting. I stroked it lightly, teasing a bead of precome the the surface.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Drawing a shuddering breath, Johnny looked down at me, eyes dark with desire and expression disbelieving as he held my hair back from my face.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>God, I wanted to taste him so bad, and all I had to do was move my head just a little forward and open my mouth. My lips fell open. He twitched in anticipation in my hand.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I swiped my tongue flat against the slit, taking in the salty-sweet taste. Breathing through my nose, I took him all the way into my mouth.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Johnny whimpered and flexed his hand in my hair, his thigh quivering under my touch when I let my hand fall there to steady myself.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>My head bobbed up and down on him experimentally. It had been a while since I'd done this for anyone, and I wasn't sure what he liked, but that didn't seem to matter too much. Johnny thrust involuntarily against my mouth, hitting the back of my throat and making me struggle not to gag.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Shit. Sorry. Are you okay?" He asked breathlessly, obviously struggling to stay in control.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I hummed around him, nodding my head and letting my eyes drift closed.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Oh." Johnny moaned in response to the vibration. "That feels... Whoa."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I hummed again as I hollowed my cheeks, sucking more enthusiastically. A litany of curses spilled forth from Johnny's lips, his hand tightening in my hair and guiding my motions.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You look so beautiful, feels so good, oh god, fuck, babe, <em>please</em>."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I moaned around him, loving how desperate he sounded and how tightly wound he was.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I'm gonna come." Johnny panted.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I looked up again, meeting his eyes in a challenge. He looked helpless up there, completely at odds with the way he was fucking my mouth.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He came with a shout, spilling into me, his release pooling in my mouth. I swallowed dutifully as I pulled away with a noisy '<em>pop'.</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I can't believe you just did that. What the fuck?" He whispered, amazed, pulling me shakily to my feet and claiming my mouth with his. I probably still tasted of him, but he didn't seem to care. He kicked off the rest of his clothing while we were kissing.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"First time?" I asked, a giddy smile on my face that matched his.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He blushed, his cheeks somehow even pinker with exertion and embarrassment. "Yeah." He sighed. More information was probably too much effort. I could feel his heart racing under my hand.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Good, though?" I was a little smug myself, now.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Johnny just looked at me, incredulous.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Good." I chuckled, slipping my dress off before guiding him over to my bed. We were extra careful stepping past his guitar on the floor. Johnny collapsed beside me, cuddling me tight against his naked body. I could feel him softening against my thigh as his breathing regulated.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I wanna do stuff for you, too, I swear... I just need a minute."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Sure, honey." I sighed contentedly, getting comfortable. I really didn't mind either way, and boys had a way of-</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>I felt Johnny's breath deepen already.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>-falling asleep right after. Still, this Valentine's Day would be hard to top</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. The Killing Moon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div>
  <p>
    <b>Friday 15th February, 1985.</b>
    <b></b>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dutch was waiting for us when we pulled up to school. We were running a little late, because by some miracle we'd woken up early and <em>that</em> had morphed into replaying the events of last night together.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hey man, gotta run." Johnny said in Dutch's direction, slamming the car door and kissing me on the cheek as he ran off to class. "Later, babe."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>My first period of the day was a free one, same as Dutch. Normally he just stayed home late on those mornings, so it was weird that he'd arrived before us. We walked towards study hall together.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"So," he said, smug as anything, "how was your night?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Really good, Johnny took me out to dinner. Yours?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dutch grinned, shark-like in its intensity. "Yeah, I took Roxy out to a horror movie and she blew me in the back of the theatre."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Dutch, you're disgusting." I laughed.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You love it." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>I didn't really, but the banter <em>was</em> growing on me. Or I was developing Stockholm syndrome. Either way. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Did you guys, y'know?" He made a crude gesture, curling the index finger and thumb of one hand into a circle and poking his other index finger through it a few times.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"No. Not that it's any of your business."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Okay, so when are you gonna? You don't think he's gonna get bored?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"He's satisfied," I rebuffed, adding again, "Not that it's <em>any</em> of your business."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"So you're..." Dutch mimed sucking dick, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"<em>Jesus. H.</em> <em>Christ</em>. I actually hate you right now. I might make you my official arch-nemesis. I think I'll get t-shirts <em>and</em> badges made." It would have had more impact if I hadn't been blushing and trying to suppress a giggle.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Aww, I'm touched."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Did you show up early for school just to bug me for gossip about your buddy's sex life? Or is there some other agenda?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Maybe."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Damnit. You're worse than most girls. Do you want me to tell you how big it is, too?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Nah, I already know that." He laughed, because of course he did. They shared locker rooms and showers. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>I shook my head in disbelief at everything else. "Johnny would probably kill you for talking to me like this, you know that, right?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Only if you were mad about it." He shrugged. "And you're not."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I threw my bag down on a desk and started fishing my stuff out of it.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dutch grabbed my wrist, turning it over in his hands. Firm but not hard enough to be uncomfortable. He'd noticed the watch and wanted a better look. "Fancy. This new?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Mmhmm."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"From Johnny?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yup."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh, he has got it <em>bad</em>. He didn't get Ali <em>anything</em> for their last Valentine's Day."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I snatched my wrist back, leaning towards annoyance now. "You know he doesn't like people bringing up his relationship with Ali. Drop it."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dutch raised his hands in surrender, knowing he had stirred the pot enough. "Consider it dropped."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He sat down next to me and unpacked his own work.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hey, can you figure out this algebra crap? Looks like bullshit to me."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dutch was the only one of Johnny's friends who was actually struggling at school. To his credit, that was nothing to do with his intelligence and everything to do with his willingness to skip just about every class he disliked and get high behind the science block instead.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I leaned over and took a look at the problem. Algebra wasn't my idea of a good time, either. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>I tried to explain the question, and thank fuck he picked it up pretty quickly because I wasn't sure how many more ways I could rephrase it to make it make sense. I found myself occasionally helping him catch up on stuff he missed after he admitted he'd been told he might not graduate that year unless he got his shit together.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The rest of my morning dragged on, seemingly forever.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Lunch was more of the usual, though since my initial arrival at the table, other girlfriends had been permitted. Roxy, Dutch's on-and-off-again thing, was hanging out with the guys before I arrived, his tanned arm draped possessively over her shoulder. Her bleach-blonde hair was pulled up into a side-ponytail.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I wondered idly if it was Roxy that dyed Dutch's hair for him. I couldn't see him getting it done in a salon, and the brassy tone of his previously almost-black hair didn't exactly scream professional job.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She wrapped one red-nailed hand around her fork as she ate, Dutch hanging off her all the while.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I walked up to the table and noticed Johnny smiling at me from across the room. My heart soared looking at him, at the way he looked at me. That lopsided little smirk when he noticed I was smiling back just about fucking ruined me.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He kicked the chair out next to him so I could sit. Not quite as gentlemanly as last night, but cute nonetheless.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Roxy smiled interestedly as I sat down. "So let's see what Johnny got you for Valentine's."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I rolled my eyes and held out my arm for her to examine. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Very pretty. Johnny, I never knew you had such good taste!" She cooed.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Tommy, Bobby, and Jimmy peered over at it. Goddamn, it was a watch, not an engagement ring. I pulled my arm back and let it fall down by my side between Johnny and I.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Dutch didn't say what he got you." I asked, trying to divert attention.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh, we just went out. Didn't want anything big after last year."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dutch smirked at 'big.' </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Roxy noticed and elbowed him in the ribs. Good for her. "You found a dress for the prom, yet, Dawn?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I hadn't, it was still months away and I was mostly still neck deep in studying for my final exams. "No. You?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She shook her head. "Maybe we could go shopping together?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Sure, that sounds nice." I didn't really know Roxy very well but she obviously had a decent enough sense of humor to be able to put up with Dutch. It could be fun.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Jimmy, what did you and Jen get up to last night?" Johnny asked, his fingers gently squeezing my leg under the table.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I didn't really hear Jimmy's response, focusing on keeping a straight face as Johnny worked his hand up my thigh. I slapped it firmly when he reached past the mid-point, and he withdrew, but not without a satisfied smirk on his lips and a blush on my cheeks.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Everyone else was paying attention to Jimmy's account of his valentine's date, and it went entirely unnoticed when I whispered a threat against Johnny's ear. "Oh, you are gonna <em>get</em> it later."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hope so." He retorted.</p>
</div><hr/><p></p><div>
  <p>The grounds of Johnny's house were so sprawling that when we reached the bottom, the lights from inside were barely visible. We were looking up at the stars, the sweaty bare skin on my back where my shirt rode up feeling itchy against the short-mown grass.</p>
  <p>His hand held mine gently, with a delicacy I wouldn't have expected from him that day I met him in the record store, all quiet and covered in bruises. We passed a joint between us, the smouldering cherry tip of it glowing in the night.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Why is your hand so sweaty?" Johnny asked, breaking through my happy, relaxed daze.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Fuck. Is it?" I pulled it out of his and wiped my hand hastily on my jeans. "Yuck."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He took it back and sighed. "Better."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Stargazing was a good idea." I said, taking a sizeable toke before handing it back to Johnny.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He sputtered slightly when he laughed mid-drag. "Yeah. Totally not an excuse to sneak out here and get high."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Now we just have to sneak back in and pretend we're not freshly-baked to your mom."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny threw his head back and cackled. "Worse, Sid."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"God. He'll probably call me a beatnik and ask if I'm off to a poetry reading. And to think I forgot my beret." I found myself developing a severe case of the giggles.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny rolled onto his side to look at me. "You're pretty in the moonlight."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Fuck off." I was blushing, and I prayed it wasn't too visible in the dark.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"No, really." He insisted.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Okay. Would you still love me if I was a worm?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny cracked up completely then, nearly sobbing with laughter. Between gasping breaths, he managed to ask, "How fucking high are you?" before kissing me. </p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. It's Different For Girls</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I actually have a playlist I'm working on for this. I'll share it later. This is a short one!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Saturday 16th February, 1985. </strong>
</p><p>I stuffed my last French fry in my mouth. Over lunch, Roxy was giving me the dirt on her recently rekindled relationship with Dutch, confident that the loud, bustling food court afforded us some kind of privacy.</p><p>“I really hope things work out this time.” She sighed. “He can be really sweet when he wants to be. And ugh, so great in the sack.”</p><p>“I’m sure he is, it’s just the rest. I can’t imagine dating him. I don’t know how you do it.”</p><p>“I know, I know.” Roxy was wringing her hands. “But have you seen him shirtless? And the way his ass looks in jeans? It’s even better out of them, by the by.”</p><p>“I guess.” I couldn’t truthfully say I had noticed. Since dating Johnny I’d become kind of a one-ass girl. “His ass might be a ten, but his personality is a two. Normally that would average out to a six, but only if you don’t factor in the amount of apologizing that you have to do for him in polite company.<em> With</em> that? Pass.”</p><p>Roxy shrugged. “Maybe I should just not take him out in polite company, then? Some boys can be just for fun.”</p><p>I laughed despite myself. Oh, I was really enjoying having a girl friend I could be frank about boys with. “I don’t think it can be <em>just for fun</em> if you keep breaking up and getting back together. Eventually you gotta shit or get off the pot.”</p><p>“Hey, we can’t all have Johnny <em>freaking</em> Lawrence, okay? Some of us have to settle for mere mortals.” She joked.</p><p>“I’d offer to loan him out, but…”</p><p>“No, I get it, half the fun of having a guy like that is being able to keep him <em>all </em>to yourself.”</p><p>I hummed in agreement. “It is pretty great.”</p><p>“Should we get back to it, then?” Roxy was already standing up and taking her tray to the trash.</p><p>The mall had a few formal wear stores, but either I was being too picky, or the options were shitty. Everything had puff sleeves and ruffles. I just wanted something simple and red. I was giving up hope by the time we walked into the third place. Roxy had a list of options as long as her arm but hadn’t settled on one, while I hadn’t found anything that would work.</p><p>It was coming up to 4pm, having almost completely scoured the final store, when I spotted a red dress on the back of a rail, well out of the way. It was wine-red satin, not a ruffle or sequin in sight. It looked like it might be a little baggy in the bust, but maybe that was the idea. I decided to try it on.</p><p>When I stepped back out of the changing room, Roxy’s jaw dropped. “Wow.”</p><p>“You like it?” I asked, shuffling awkwardly from one foot to the other.</p><p>Objectively I knew that I looked hot, but it was out of my comfort zone. I tried to imagine it with a corsage, with Johnny in a tux next to me. It was both more and less skin than I was used to showing. The cowl neck clung to my breasts in a way that was suggestive, but not quite indecent, and the back was open, a little chain running down the length of my spine for decoration. My legs, the one part of myself I was comfortable showing off regularly, were completely obscured by the floor-length fabric.</p><p>“It was made for you. Johnny’s going to die when he sees this.”</p><p>“I <em>do</em> want to look good, but we should probably draw the line at murder.”</p><p>“Hah. You’re going to have every guy at that prom looking at you. That’s a prom queen dress if ever I’ve seen one.”</p><p>“Oh no,” I grimaced, “maybe I should get something else.”</p><p>I didn’t want that kind of attention, not really, and I definitely didn’t want to be in the running for prom queen. That’d probably go to one of the cheerleaders, and her boyfriend would get voted prom king because that’s how those things went. I hoped, at least.</p><p>I thought of who the options were, and I realised Ali and Daniel were the first couple that came to mind. Hopefully Johnny would be cool if that was the case. </p><p>“Don’t you dare. You<em> have</em> to get it.”</p><p>And so, I got it, leaving the store 80 dollars poorer and one prom dress richer.</p>
<hr/><p>I decided to swing by work on my way home. Johnny sat at the till, meaning Mitch was probably in the back.</p><p>"Hi there, handsome." I greeted him, kissing him on the cheek and dropping my bag behind the counter.</p><p>"Hey, babe. Get the dress?"</p><p>"Yep. And it is <em>red</em>, so now you have to match."</p><p>Johnny smiled, obviously pleased with my color choice. “I can do that.”</p><p>I leaned in for a kiss, just a tiny peck on the lips, but stopped when I saw movement. Mitch, surfacing from his office.</p><p>“No canoodling in front of customers.” He chided.</p><p>I stepped back from Johnny, but I gestured to the empty shop floor anyway. “No customers.”</p><p>"You just come in to distract my employees, kid?"</p><p>"Pretty much." I grinned. "You got a pot of coffee on back there?" </p><p>"You know where it is." </p><p>I squeezed past Johnny and Mitch, heading through to the office. Mitch followed me back, slumping down at his desk and pushing his hand through his hair while I poured myself a mug. </p><p>"Did you hear I found my prom dress?"</p><p>"No way." Mitch blew out a breath, the puff of air ruffling through a few strands of grey-brown hair that had fallen back into his face. He reached into his desk drawer for papers and started rolling. "I can hardly believe you're graduating this year. Nearly all grown up. I'm gonna have to stop calling you 'kid', huh?"</p><p>"Oh, only when I have to stop calling you Boss." I smirked. It'd be a cold day in hell when that happened. </p><p>"You got a limo? I know a guy." </p><p>"I think Johnny has it covered, but thanks." I added cream and sugar, then stirred the hot liquid thoughtfully. Looking over to where Johnny sat at the counter, fingers tapping in time to the beat of the song playing, I wondered what Mitch's take on us was. </p><p>"He's a good kid, Dee." Mitch looked at Johnny as if he'd been reading my mind. "You could do a lot worse."</p><p>"How do you always do that? You always seem to know what I'm worried about. It's freaky."</p><p>"Known you too long." He said, sparking up his lighter.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. It's Raining On Prom Night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hope you enjoy this chapter. It gets a bit feelingsy.<br/><a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5AKW6un5jB8lumuXjxd2r3?si=c0q1H6YXSD2wtS-XTo-Kpw">Spotify playlist link here.</a></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Friday 12th April, 1985.</strong>
</p><p>It was raining on prom night.</p><p>The boys had all agreed on sharing a limo, and somehow each of their dates had been persuaded that we should get ready as a group. Jimmy’s girlfriend, Jen, had brought a huge box of assorted makeup, and that was enough social lubricant for 5 girls who didn’t really know each other too well to help each other out with their prom looks.</p><p>Jen’s dress, not that I would have said this to her face, was alarmingly reminiscent of those toilet roll covers old ladies love. The baby pink fabric with white lace detailing, set over a hoop skirt, couldn’t have reminded me of much else. We were all suitably stunned when she shimmied into it and looked incredible.</p><p>Roxy had gone with a purple sequin number, the fishtail skirt of it mostly tulle. I vaguely recognized it as one of the options she’d come up with on our shopping trip. Bobby’s date Marie’s dress was teal, shiny and knee-length. Tommy’s date, Stacy, was currently zipping her up, her hot pink dress hanging on the front of Roxy’s wardrobe.</p><p>“I heard Johnny tell Dutch he’s booked a hotel room for you two.” Roxy was applying blush to my cheeks. The fluffy brush caught me just underneath the nose as she moved it to my other cheek, and the cloud of powder made my nose twitch with the threat of a sneeze.</p><p>Jen chuckled, “If he gets nearly as wasted as he did at the junior prom with Ali, he’s not going to get it up. You’ll be safe.”</p><p>I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rising. Fuck, I was sick of living our relationship in the shadow of his last one. It was bad enough when Johnny compared me to Ali, though he’d mostly stopped doing that, but hearing it from his friends and their girlfriends at every opportunity was getting to me. Was I developing a complex about it? I didn’t want to sound oversensitive, so I deliberately unclenched my jaw and let Roxy get on with doing my makeup.</p><p>“Who do you think will get prom king and queen?” I was mostly wondering out loud. Roxy’s comment from our shopping trip kept replaying in my mind, and this was a good an opportunity to get some group consensus as any.</p><p>Stacy was pulling on her dress now, the layers of fabric falling around her hips flatteringly. “Either you and Johnny, or Ali Mills and Daniel LaRusso.”</p><p>“Really?” Jen asked. “I think Dutch and Roxy have a shot at it.”</p><p>Roxy shook her head. “Nobody likes Dutch.”</p><p>“Yeah, but it’s not about the guy really. As long as he’s dreamy.”</p><p>I piled my hair up on top of my head, securing it with a gold barrette, and pulling a few tendrils loose to frame my face. “That’s the first time I’ve heard someone describe Dutch as <em>dreamy</em>.”</p><p>“Well, he is, if you’ve never spoken to him.” Marie giggled.</p><p>Roxy’s mom knocked at the door to let us know the boys were here.  “We’ll be out in a minute, Mrs. Slater!” called Jen, since Roxy was currently slathering her lips in sparkly gloss.</p><p>When we made it downstairs, Roxy’s mom was in the living room taking pictures of the boys all lined up in their tuxedos, arms around each other affectionately. We stood at the door and watched. They hadn’t noticed us yet and I was happy with that, just drinking in the sight of them from a distance.</p><p>God help me, Johnny looked breath-taking. He’d had his hair cut and pushed it back from his face with a little wax. His red bow tie matched his cummerbund, which matched the red rose boutonniere at his lapel. My heart was doing back-flips. I was so in love with that gorgeous boy, so much that it was sickening.  </p><p>“Alright, just one more, then we’ll get some of the girls.” Mrs. Slater said, her voice a little emotional as she looked at the five boys together.</p><p>Johnny looked over at us, and I saw his eyes go wide as I heard the camera shutter click. He took me in slowly, like he’d never really seen me before. I walked over to him as the other boys made to move towards their own dates.</p><p>“You look good.” I said, making the understatement of the decade. I pressed my lips chastely against his, then used my thumb to wipe away the faint smear of red lipstick.</p><p>Johnny seemed to be just as love-struck as I was, grinning giddily back at me in a way that was thoroughly contagious. “I got your corsage,” he said, in lieu of any comment about my dress.</p><p>Not that my dress had gone unnoticed, I could see him trying to sneakily glance down at my tits. They looked good, draped elegantly in red satin. I let him tie the small arrangement of roses around my right wrist. I wore my watch on my other, primarily because I couldn’t bear to remove it.</p><p>Roxy’s mom lined the girls up together, snapped off a few photos, and then allowed the boys back in for a few full group shots. After that, she took some individual photos of the couples. When she took ours, Johnny’s grin was mischievous, and I was blushing, because Johnny had his hand on my ass.</p><p>We all climbed into the limo, the ten of us fairly crammed into the vehicle. Dutch, eternally the reprobate, had stolen a couple of bottles of champagne from his dad’s wine cellar. The two bottles, passed around and poured into dixie cups, didn’t go far, but it was enough to get us all a bit more in the mood for dancing and feeling ready to party.</p><p>It wasn’t long before we arrived at the school. A couple of the teachers were having couples enter together, through a makeshift curtain-door into the sports hall. Johnny and I walked through to find that inside it was totally decked out with ribbons, garlands, and balloons. Somehow they’d managed to hang a disco ball in the middle that glittered attractively and bounced light around the room. Behind a stage set up at the back of the room was a huge banner that read ‘CONGRADULATIONS CLASS OF ‘85’. We posed for our photo and moved on.</p><p>Johnny and I waited for a song we wanted to dance to, chatting away to various people. Diane from my chemistry class came over at one point to say hi and make eyes at Johnny, which he entertained a little more than I was content with.</p><p>The night passed quickly, we danced on and off for most of it. Mostly during the bouncier numbers, and I was happy to oblige him. Johnny was surprisingly good for someone who had once claimed to not be much of a dancer. I supposed it was all that karate making him light on his feet.</p><p>Bonnie Tyler’s <em>The World Starts Tonight </em>started playing as a slow dance, drawing some groans from the less romantic couples. I was surprised when instead of taking me off to the side to grab another drink, Johnny spun me around the dance floor like an expert. He dipped me, much to my shock, and laughed lightly in my ear when he pulled me back to standing.</p><p>“Wait, I thought you couldn’t dance?”</p><p>“I took some lessons.”</p><p>“When did you have time?” I was completely in awe when he twirled me around in his arms.</p><p>“Mitch might have taught me.”</p><p>I could barely imagine Mitch dancing, never mind him teaching Johnny. He hadn’t always been the man I knew, though. Maybe Mitch had hidden depths that I wasn’t apprised of.</p><p>After the song, the music cut out and the lights on the stage went up. It was getting late, I supposed they’d reveal who our prom royalty were. I held Johnny’s hand and waited for the announcement, hoping I wouldn’t have to get up there and wear the stupid crown.</p><p>Diane climbed up onto the stage, envelope in hand. She cleared her throat. “Now, ladies and gentlemen, the moment you’ve all been waiting for, prom king and queen.” She opened the envelope, and with a surprised intake of breath, announced, “Ali Mills and Daniel LaRusso!”</p><p>Johnny was still holding my hand, and I felt him grip it tighter. I don’t think he realized he’d spoken aloud when he mumbled under his breath, “It should have been me up there.” Not us<em>. Me. </em>As in him up there with Ali. My stomach churned, and I wanted to hurl all over his expensive shoes.</p><p>“<em>Are you fucking joking</em>?”</p><p>“Wait, I didn’t, I mean-”</p><p>“You didn’t what?”</p><p>“I didn’t, I didn’t…” He was stammering, stumbling over his words like a man caught with his dick out.</p><p>Fine, then <em>I</em> didn’t give a fuck.</p><p>I walked away, pushing through the crowd, and he followed behind me. In the corridor, I turned on him. “Why can’t you just admit it, Johnny? You’re still in love with her. We’ve been together for months, and I thought you loved me, but are you just stringing me along? Am I just some distraction?”</p><p>Johnny opened his mouth to speak, but words didn’t come fast enough.</p><p>My nostrils flared with the rage and pain I could feel welling up inside me. “You know what? I don’t want to hear it. Don’t waste my time. I’m leaving.”</p><p>“Please, Dawn…” Johnny begged, his eyes damp as if tears were threatening to fall.</p><p>I knew that feeling. I took a deep breath to steel myself and spun on my heel to get out of there, half hoping Johnny would grab my wrist and pull me back to him, kiss me until I was dizzy and forgot that my heart was breaking.</p><p>I walked quickly until I got outside, slumping down on the steps in front of the school.</p><p>I heard footsteps beside me and tried desperately to choke down the sob I could feel trying to break its way out of my chest. I felt the warm, solid mass of a boy sit down next to me. Not Johnny, the arm was too soft, too wide against mine.</p><p>I looked up. Dutch looked back at me, a sad lopsided smile on his face.</p><p>“I’m not crying, you’re crying.” I protested weakly, laughing to cover how fucking tragic I must look, in my beautiful gown and utterly fucking broken. “I should have seen this coming.”</p><p>He whipped a pre-rolled joint out of his jacket pocket, fished around for his zippo a moment longer. “You look like you need this more than I do.”</p><p>I nodded, a miserable little chuckle escaping my lips. “Yeah, I guess so. Why are you here?” I took it and put it between my lips, let him hold the flame for me to light it.</p><p>“I saw you run off. Johnny wouldn’t say why, figured I’d get the dirt from you. Bobby’s in there with him. He looks pretty cut up.”</p><p>I took a big, long drag, held the smoke in my lungs until I could hardly bear it, then released it. I passed back to Dutch, who took a drag of his own, blowing out a series of smoke rings.</p><p>“Show off.” I muttered, rolling my eyes.</p><p>“Yeah, well. Guy’s gotta impress girls somehow.”</p><p>“He still loves her, you know? Could everyone see it but me? Do I look like as much of an idiot as I feel?” I blurted it out, not quite willing to say everything on my mind but completely incapable of holding it in.</p><p>He shook his head. “So what if he still cares about her? He loves you. He’s with you. It’s you he’s working his ass off to be with.”</p><p>“I don’t know. I guess I feel like shit. Like she didn’t want him so that’s the only reason he’s with me. I want love on my own terms, man, I don’t want to live in someone else’s shadow.”</p><p>“So get your ass back in there and flip the script. Make him apologize to you. Make him show you how he feels for you.” Dutch put his hand on my back, the touch more brotherly than anything else, and I didn’t know why I wanted so badly to lean into him and let him hold me.</p><p>“That was… surprisingly good advice.” I felt my heart rate slowing down. Blame it on the weed.</p><p>He shrugged. “Don’t tell anyone. Got a reputation to maintain.”</p><p>I was suddenly struck by the notion that I might have misjudged Dutch, that Roxy may have been right about him being okay underneath whatever macho bullshit he was projecting. And then just like that, he was stubbing out the joint, getting up, and walking back inside.</p><p>I sat there alone for a few more minutes, until I was sure I could face Johnny.</p><p>Bobby was standing with Johnny pretty much where I left him when I made my way back over to them. I just barely caught Bobby advise him “use your words,” before he made a hasty exit, leaving the two of us alone.</p><p>“Can we talk?” I asked, praying he’d say yes.</p><p>Johnny nodded. I led him into an unlocked classroom further down the hall.</p><p>“I’m sorry.” He began. “It’s not Ali. It’s not <em>just</em> Ali, anyway.”</p><p>I sat back on a table, kicked my heels off, and nodded. I needed to listen to this, needed whatever explanation he had to sink into every fiber of my being.</p><p>“It’s like… Ever since LaRusso showed up, everything changed. Everything I cared about, it’s his. Ali's dating him. My sensei tried to kill me because I lost to him. I probably would have won that fucking bullshit crown if he hadn’t won the tournament.”</p><p>I could see that, and it made my heart hurt a little less. It didn’t stop me feeling like a consolation prize, though, especially when something made me say, “Well, you have me.”</p><p>“Do I? Because I was a fucking asshole back there, and I thought I’d lost you.”</p><p>“I said what I said.”</p><p>Johnny walked over to me, settled himself next to my legs, and tilted my chin up so I faced him. He stared into my eyes and I felt like I was drowning in them.</p><p>“I love you. I only want you. I was with Ali a long time, and I don’t know if I’ll ever stop loving her, but I don’t love her like this. When I said that was before, I meant it.” He pressed a kiss to my lips, and I felt tears falling for the first time that night as I let myself melt into him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Together Now</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This one is a little smutty.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Saturday 13th April, 1985.</strong>
</p><p>I stretched luxuriously in satin sheets, knowing I was somewhere unfamiliar but too blissfully half-asleep to care. Distantly, I heard Johnny’s voice, then the sound of a door clicking shut.</p><p>The bed moved with the weight of him sitting down next to me. I cracked open one eye and smiled when he tenderly brushed my hair back out of my face.</p><p>"Morning, baby." I murmured, trying to shake the last traces of sleep from my brain but not wanting to let go of this relaxed, happy feeling.</p><p>"I ordered breakfast. I didn’t know what you wanted, so..." He turned to look at the trolley in the corner of the room, my gaze following his. It was laden with pretty much everything on the damn breakfast menu. Instead of waking me up to ask, he'd just ordered one of everything.</p><p>I sat up, pulling the covers up my torso. "Coffee, please. Like you like it.”</p><p>He moved away to pour a cup from the big silver pot, and I watched his movements with interest as he added cream and sugar. The fluffy white bathrobe he was wearing moved apart just slightly when he came back to me, and I caught a pleasing flash of bare thigh with each step.</p><p>The hot, slightly-too-sweet liquid was delightful. "You’re perfect."</p><p>"I didn’t know it was as easy as getting you coffee." Johnny teased.</p><p>I set my cup down on the nightstand and leaned over to reach the belt of his robe. Pulled it loose, pushed the fabric apart. "This helps."</p><p>I ran a hand over his chest, his abs, and lower, just skimming the side of his groin and his down to his thigh, taking a deep breath when his eyelids fluttered shut. </p><p>Johnny let out a soft sigh, "We should eat something before the food gets cold."</p><p><em>Oh, my love, mind always on his stomach. </em>"We have a few hours before we have to check out, right?"</p><p>"Yeah?"</p><p>"Maybe we can…" I let my voice trail off as I slid my hand around the inside of his thigh. I traced my fingernails over the delicate skin, and noticed him hardening in his shorts, very little left to my imagination through the clingy fabric.</p><p>By the time we arrived at the hotel the night before, we’d been exhausted and the hour or so that we’d been able to stay awake had been all about making up and comforting each other. We hadn’t made it as far as anything sexual, but not for lack of wanting to. </p><p>"Oh, no. Today is about you. I owe you after last night." He laughed, shoving my hand away, but there was something promising in his voice that filled me with anticipation. "Breakfast first."</p><p>"<em>Fine</em>." I pouted. "I’ll have the pancakes."</p><p>He wheeled the whole trolley over to the bed, then, and handed me a plate.</p><p>The food was damn good, I had to admit. Fluffy, syrup-soaked deliciousness in my mouth and silky fabric against my skin flooded my senses; pure decadence. As Johnny devoured pretty much everything else, I found myself amazed at the sheer amount he could eat for a guy without an ounce of excess body fat, and equally perplexed at how anyone could look so gorgeous while stuffing their face. </p><p>"Why are you smiling at me?" He asked around a mouthful of bacon.</p><p>"Nothing. Never mind." I laughed. "I need to brush my teeth."</p><p>I climbed down from the bed and padded through to the bathroom, stopping dead at the sight of the truly massive jaccuzi tub. "Fuck me."</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"I’m taking a bath!" I called. I was already spinning the taps, watching the water flow. </p><p>Johnny chuckled, coming to stand in the open doorway. His robe was all the way open and he seemed just as pleased with the sight of me in my underwear as I was with him. "You saw the tub, huh?"</p><p>"Have you seen the fucking size of this thing? We could both fit in here."</p><p>He raised an eyebrow, his perfect mouth tilted up in a smirk. "Oh yeah?"</p><p>"Yeah." The word came out breathy, almost a challenge to see if he'd follow through. Up until this point our sex life had mostly been quick handjobs or blowjobs in our bedrooms. We certainly hadn't had a whole hotel room to ourselves to indulge in whatever fantasies we could come up with. </p><p>We stood there for a long moment staring at each other, the air so tense it was palpable as we figured out who would make the first move. I tugged at my bottom lip with my teeth, and then Johnny was crossing the room and pushing me backwards until the backs of my calves hit the porcelain, his mouth capturing mine and his body a solid wall in front of me. I clung onto him for dear life, pinned between his chest and the tub, supported by the hand he placed on my lower back.</p><p>My fingers ghosted a path along his collarbone, pushing the terrycloth robe down his shoulders, desperately reaching to free up any covered skin. I felt the fabric pool around our feet and get kicked aside. </p><p>After a few moments of fumbling mid-kiss, we separated so that he could focus on unhooking my bra. Quickly enough that was gone, flung somewhere across the room with less care than was perhaps appropriate for such an expensive garment.</p><p>His skin felt so hot against my sensitive chest that it was almost too much to take.</p><p>"God, you feel so good." I gasped into his mouth between fervent kisses.</p><p>Johnny groaned, lifting my thigh around his hip and pinning it there, bending at the knee slightly to accommodate our height difference so he could grind against my core. </p><p>"<em>Jesus Christ.</em>"</p><p>He'd reduced me to blasphemy already, and that didn't bode well for me remaining coherent for long. Thankfully, his brain was better engaged than mine. He pulled away to turn off the taps behind me before the bath overflowed. </p><p>When I whimpered at his absence, Johnny's attention came back to me, his hungry gaze roaming my body. Somewhere in the back of my mind it occurred to me that he'd never really seen me like this; my bra mostly stayed on when we fooled around, and I wasn't really in the habit of standing brazenly topless in front of him.</p><p>"Can I?" Johnny asked, toying with the waistband of my panties. There was no doubt in my mind that he knew, as I stared up at him with wide, pleading eyes, that I was completely powerless to refuse anything he requested of me. </p><p>I nodded, breath coming out ragged as he slipped the lace down my thighs.</p><p>Johnny kneeled to take them all the way off and then stopped, looking up at me unsure of how to proceed, eye level with my navel. My brain was short circuiting, and I couldn't have formed a sentence if I'd tried. "You want to stop?"</p><p>I shook my head in a vehement no, and realized that the rest of me was shaking too, practically vibrating with nervous energy. I could feel how wet I was for him already, even though he'd barely touched me. He started pressing tiny little kisses against my stomach and I had to think very hard just to remember to breathe.</p><p>What would it be like when he slid his fingers into me and felt how turned on I was for him? And why was my brain choosing this exact moment to go on vacation?</p><p>Johnny's voice pulled me back into the moment. "Tell me what to do." He was calm, quiet, obviously holding back his own desire to avoid spooking me.</p><p>"I, uh..." I felt hazy, unable to articulate properly around the aching need I felt. <em>Concentrate</em>, I told myself. "I want you in me."</p><p>He huffed a bitter laugh against my skin. "I didn't bring condoms. Didn't think."</p><p>"Okay." I said, a little weakly. My head was spinning as I tried to get myself under control. I sat down on the side of the tub, just wide enough to not be too uncomfortable.  "That's okay."</p><p>Johnny's hand rested lightly on my knee. "I still want to make you feel good."</p><p>"Yeah?" I let him gently nudge my legs open. </p><p>"Is this okay?" His hand was making its way up my thigh, pushing them further apart. </p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>The lust in his expression was even more apparent when I was spread open in front of him and he could see all of me in intimate detail, including the glistening wetness at my center. "Fuck." He muttered, breathing hard.</p><p>"What do you want to do to me, Johnny?" I asked, emboldened by the sight of him on his knees and transfixed by my pussy.</p><p>He didn't reply, just looked at me with that gorgeous face pleading, then shifted forwards and traced a line through my labia with his tongue. </p><p>"Ohhhh." I moaned, holding onto the tub for fear of landing in the water. Fuck, that was good. "If I fall in and hit my head and die, I'm going to haunt you, you know?" I laughed breathlessly. </p><p>"Worth it." He chuckled, muffled against me before licking again, more insistent this time. </p><p>He swirled his tongue around my clit, the action making hips buck towards him and drawing a deep groan from somewhere in my chest. After months of dancing around each other, delicately deciding on the right time to take the next step, I was wound up tighter than a drum. </p><p>Each flick of his tongue had me closer and closer to that knife-edge. I shut my eyes so tight that I saw stars dancing behind them. </p><p>"Look at me." </p><p>My eyes snapped back open at Johnny's command. The look on his face as he went down on me was indescribably hot. I ran a hand through his hair, nails dragging along his scalp, fingers gently tugging at his short blonde locks. </p><p>I moaned his name between gasping breaths, so much pressure building in my core that I was sure any moment I would snap, and then it happened, and I was crying out as wave after wave of sensation tumbled over me, dragging me under. </p><p>Johnny came up for air, breathing as hard as I was. He kissed me rough and sloppy and I could taste myself on him. </p><p>"That was amazing." I panted, stroking his hair and holding him close. "How are you so good at that?" </p><p>He laughed against my mouth, deep and throaty and oh my God I'd never heard anything sexier. "You taste like fucking candy."</p><p>I knew that was objectively untrue but it was so flattering I didn't give a shit. "And you're a filthy fucking liar, Johnny Lawrence. I love you."</p><p>"Back at you, babe." </p><p>I tested the water behind me with my fingertips. Lukewarm but not so full that I couldn't bring it up to temperature by adding more hot water. I added some bath oil, rose scented, my favorite.</p><p>The phone rang just as I was turning the handle. Johnny hopped to his feet like a goddamn bunny.</p><p>"I'll get it."</p><p>I heard the sound of him talking in the other room, too quietly to make out the words, as I sank into the bath. The water was warming around me and I let my eyes fall closed. </p><p>The sound of footsteps let me know when Johnny returned. I opened my eyes to see him looking down at me as though he was trying to burn the image of me, naked and floating, onto his brain. </p><p>"My mom called. I got into Penn." He sounded ambivalent. </p><p>My heart sank. "That's good news, right? You worked so hard. This is good news." I kept repeating that in my head, hoping I'd believe it. "Are you going?"</p><p>"I haven't heard back from all my options yet." Not a yes, not a no. "Can I get in?"</p><p>I nodded and scooted forwards to let him in behind me. His gorgeous long legs slid into place around the outside of mine. He pulled me back to rest against his chest. </p><p>"I really am so proud of you, you know?" My voice was less confident, more shaky than it had been before. </p><p>"I know." Johnny buried his face in my hair. "We'll make it work, babe. It's gonna work out."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Everybody Wants To Rule The World</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Monday 15th April, 1985.</b>
</p><p> </p><p></p><div>
  <p>I walked into the store for my afternoon shift, only to find Mitch there waiting with three college admissions letters sitting on the counter in front of him. Odd for them to all arrive on the same day. It felt ominous.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"How did you get these?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He looked at me like I was stupid. My Mom must have dropped it off on her way to work.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Mom, <em>right</em>." I huffed out laugh, turning the letters around in my hands.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I didn't know if I should open them here. She dropped them off so I could, though, right?</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The shop bell rang behind me and I looked over to Johnny, walking in the door. He'd been putting the hood up and locking the car after enjoying the warmth of the spring afternoon on the drive over from school.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I held up the letters, waiting for the recognition to click into place behind his eyes.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Predictably, it did, his face carefully neutral when he asked, "Are you going to open them?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>At his prompting, I nodded, sliding my finger into the little gap along the seam of one until the paper gave way.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>Congratulations! It is with great pleasure that I offer you admission to Stanford University, Class of 1989.</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>I read ahead, mind hazy already.</p>
</div><div>
  <p><em>We invite you to a three-day program of events that will introduce you to the vibrant academic life here at Stanford</em> <em>.</em></p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I got in to Stanford. They want me to go there for a weekend. I have to decide by May." I was gobsmacked.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Shit." Johnny said. "Well done."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"We're proud of you, kiddo."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I opened the second envelope. Northridge. 'I got in to CSUN too." The third was Caltech. "And Caltech."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I needed to sit down. I needed to talk to Johnny alone.</p>
</div><div>
  <p><em>Shit</em>. I could go anywhere. Well, anywhere in California. Johnny's top contender was two days drive away.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Did you hear back from yours, yet?" I asked, grasping for anything that might make my panic subside.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I got CSUN, but my mom doesn't want me to turn down Penn for it. I don't know about Stanford."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"See, there's still hope!" Mitch said. "You should go to the weekend visit, Dee. See if you like it."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I guess. Johnny? We should make a plan."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He shrugged noncommittally. "We'll figure it out."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"'We'll figure it out' isn't a plan."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Let's talk about it later." He looked over to Mitch for backup.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"No teen drama here. Deal with it later."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I can't believe you're ganging up on me!" Fucking hell, I'd brought Johnny in here and the two of them were now conspiring against me.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I'm not. Get your head in the game, kid. You're here to work, not fuckin' argue with your boyfriend."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Alright." I sighed, defeated. I didn't have to stand there and act cool about it, though. "I'm going to clock in then we can start inventory. I just need a minute."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Time of the month?" Mitch asked when I was the other side of the door. <em>Fucker</em>.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I sat down in the stock room, nauseous and shaking. I rested my head against a box, breathing deeply through my nose.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hey." Johnny murmured, coming to sit beside me.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hi."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"It'll be alright." He was shooting for reassuring, I could tell, but it missed the mark.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I didn't know if there was anything he could say besides<em> of course I won't leave you for four </em><em>years</em> that would. And that wasn't really what I wanted to hear either. I felt so fucking hopeless, so frustrated.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Do you ever think maybe we just weren't meant to be? Meeting the last year of high school, going to different colleges. Do you ever just want to give in and accept it?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What? <em>No</em>. I love you." Johnny was indignant at even the suggestion.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I love you too, but <em>everyone</em> thinks they can cope with long distance and <em>nobody ever does</em>. Four years is so long, I don't know how I'll cope with only seeing each other during breaks."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You don't want to break up, do you?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"<em>Of course not</em>. I'm just really freaking out."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny pulled me into his side, wrapping his arms around me. "We'll make it work, we have to. Let's just try and enjoy the time we have here and take it one day at a time."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"How am I supposed to do that when I'm so fucking scared you're leaving me?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I know, babe, me too. But I wanna give you the life you deserve. I can't do that if I don't go to a great college and land a good job."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I pushed a lock of hair behind my ear and sighed. I knew how much Johnny liked taking care of me, providing made him feel masculine at a time when he really seemed to need that, and I was pretty happy to indulge him. Maybe that had been a mistake. </p>
  <p>"What about the life I want? I don't need a huge mansion in the hills. I need you. I want us to have our own little record store, a crappy little house we have to fix up ourselves and, God willing, a couple of kids with your eyes and my hair."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You wanna have kids with me?" Johnny sounded shocked, but not horrified.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Well, yeah, assuming you do."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I can't see myself doing it with anyone but you, but yeah." He smiled sheepishly, and my heart softened.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Well, good. Because if we don't then I'll just adopt too many cats."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I didn't think you liked cats."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I don't, that's the problem."</p>
</div><hr/><p> </p><p></p><div>
  <p>
    <b>Tuesday 16th April, 1985.</b>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I think I might break up with Dutch. For good."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Roxy and I were having lunch outside while the boys played soccer when she dropped that particular bombshell.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What happened?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Nothing, that's the thing. I just don't think... Oh, I don't know. Things have been extra weird since the prom."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Weird how?" I asked.</p>
  <p><em>Since the prom </em>had me on high alert. Dutch had comforted me and I'd been grateful, and nothing even remotely inappropriate had happened, but it still left me with a funny feeling gnawing at my insides when I thought about it for too long.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I don't know, you and Johnny had that fight and I noticed you storm off and then the next thing I know he's gone and I can't find him for an hour."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Huh."</p>
  <p>Dutch had been with me for at least some of it, but certainly not a whole hour. He'd also sworn me to secrecy. I still hadn't had time to decide <em>how</em> I felt about the nice Dutch that I wasn't supposed to know about.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Whenever we're having a really great time and it's romantic and sweet and I think maybe it's genuinely something, I turn around and he's fucking <em>gone</em>. Physically or emotionally or whatever. Getting close to him is impossible, and it's a shame because he's a really great lay."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I took a bite of my sandwich so I had a moment to think.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Johnny wouldn't be so fond of him if there wasn't something there, I guess. Maybe you should wait to decide until after finals. You don't want a breakup throwing you both off your game."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You're probably right." She sighed. "I just wish he actually liked me."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I'm sure he likes you fine."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"He likes screwing me, anyway."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You're going to college soon. Maybe just enjoy it in the meantime?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Roxy sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. "You know, that's not the worst plan. Hey, did you hear Ali broke up with Daniel after the prom?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"No way?" Well, that had been unexpected.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yes way! She's dating some college football player now."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"<em>Wow</em>. Didn't think she had it in her."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Roxy's laugh made her soda shoot out of her nose. "Fuck!" She coughed and spluttered, eyes watering.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You okay there?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah, yeah." She was recovering, slowly. "Why would you say that about Ali, though? She dated Johnny."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Like you don't know what I mean. Miss Perfect, house in the hills, Prom Queen, cheer princess Ali Mills, sleeping with some college boy before she's even graduated high school. You know Johnny hadn't even had a blowjob when we started dating? Now she's probably fucking some frat boy."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I don't know that they're sleeping together." Roxy said, but it was a fair bet.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"He's a college boy. If he's not sleeping with her he's sleeping with someone else. Let's hope she at least gets laid."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What are you and Johnny doing about college? He's going to Penn, right?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Ugh. I didn't even want to think about Johnny being one of those college boys, about how I'd be 2 days drive away instead of twenty minutes. "He hasn't decided yet, but I think so. He wants to try and stay together, and I can't say no to that face."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Or the rest of him, right?" Roxy said, looking over at where Johnny stood shirtless on the pitch, all long limbs and lean, chiseled muscle, looking like a fucking Greek statue. Dutch told a joke and Johnny laughed in the way that made my heart do somersaults.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I caught Roxy staring at Johnny like he was every teenage girl's wet dream given form. To be fair, he kind of was.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hey, that's my boyfriend you're ogling!" I slapped her arm, jokingly. "Check out your own."</p>
  <p>Dutch did look good, the gold St Christopher medallion sitting against his chest complimented his tanned skin, his complexion notably darker than Johnny's. Where Johnny was all defined muscle, Dutch was softer and stockier, and somehow, just as appealing in his own way.</p>
</div><div>
  <p><em>God, I am such a </em><em>hypocrite, </em>I thought, hurriedly looking back at Johnny before Roxy noticed. She hadn't.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah. Thanks for the pep talk, Dee."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Any time. Hey, just try and let him down gently if you do, yeah? Johnny cares about him." I said, covering my ass, I guess.</p>
  <p>I wasn't sure what this mixed up feeling was but I was grateful I had something resembling plausible deniability about it. Maybe if I ignored it long enough it'd resolve itself. </p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Your Love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The song on the playlist for this chapter is Your Love by The Outfield. It's a little bit out of step with the period that this chapter takes place in, but the lyrics are perfect.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
    <b>Friday 10th May, 1985.</b>
  </p>
<p></p><div>
  <p>Exams flew by in a whirlwind of last minute cramming and group study sessions with the gang. Roxy and I had become firm friends, and on the day of our finals, she'd invited Johnny and I out to double date with her and Dutch.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Squeezed into the diner booth at Sal's, I was starting to see what she meant about their relationship. She'd flirt with him and he'd return the interest, but soon enough his attention would be right back to Johnny, engrossed in whatever conversation they were involved in that went over my head.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>It felt weird when I'd make a joke about something dumb and he'd hit me with that same smile he gave the guys, his brown eyes warm and crinkling slightly at the corners. We were all friends now, and friends smiled at each other when one said something funny. When he did, I found myself noticing the little scar on his lower lip and hating myself for the little flutter of curiosity I felt about it. How did he get it? Was it that bar fight when he'd broken the dart board and spent two months in juvie last year? And why did I even care?</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"So you're going to Stanford?" Roxy asked and I snapped back into the moment. I pushed the rest of my fries around my plate, not really feeling hungry anymore.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah." I cleared my throat. "Johnny didn't get into Stanford, and with Johnny going to Penn, I don't really have much reason to go to Northridge anymore. Where are you going?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"UT Austin, I'm doing a Liberal Arts Degree. My mom is totally just glad I'm going to college at all."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What about you, Dutch?" Johnny asked. I couldn't believe they hadnt actually talked through their college choices before now.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He shrugged nonchalantly. "Casa Loma."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"The community college?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah. I didn't get the grades for fuckin' Penn, but I'm graduating."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I'm proud of you, man."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I wouldn't have done if it wasn't for your babe here. Thanks, Dawn."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I flushed pink and my mouth went dry. I took an extra-large sip of my coke to compensate. Only Johnny called me babe, and hearing it as though I was a possession was weird and annoying. Oh, annoyance, my old friend. I latched onto it with both hands.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You worked hard for it. No need to thank me."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Don't be modest, babe. Studying with you got my grades up." Johnny said, smiling at me, and wow, I felt so fucking lucky that he looked at me like that.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh come on, it's not like it's hard. You're both smart enough. You both just needed to focus for like two minutes." I squeezed Johnny's hand in mine.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You know what? We should all take a drive together. Who knows when we'll get time to hang out like this again."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I laughed. "Johnny, we have the entire summer to hang out. Don't jump the gun."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Humor me, babe." He knocked his elbow against mine. "C'mon man, help me out here."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dutch ran his tongue across his teeth once he finished the last bite of his burger. He fixed his face in something resembling sadness, but wholly sarcastic. "Dawn, you don't wanna hang out with me and Roxy? Frankly, I'm hurt."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Well, since my whole world revolves around <em>your</em> feelings, Dutch, I guess I better. What do you say, Roxy?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Roxy had an odd look on her face. "Yeah, I'd love to, but I have a thing."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You sure? I thought you chose tonight because you were free." Dutch asked.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She waved a hand dismissively. "I just remembered. But you go with, if you want. It's cool."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"No way, I'm not third-wheeling with these two lovebirds."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Like I'm not the third wheel with you and Johnny." I teased, sensing the tension and wanting out. "Let's pay the bill and get out of here."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny threw down enough cash to cover everyone and a decent tip, and the four of us filtered out of the restaurant, saying our goodbyes in the parking lot. Dutch and Roxy had arrived separately, Dutch on his bike and Roxy in her mom's car, and they left in different directions.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny had picked me up in the firebird this afternoon and was dropping me off at home since he was working early the next day. I climbed into the front seat beside him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>My brow was furrowed, thinking about the abrupt end to the evening. "Do you think Roxy is okay? Should I call her later?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny shrugged and kept his eyes on the road as we pulled out of the lot. "I guess. I hope she doesn't break up with him again. He never handles it well and I think this time he really wanted it to work."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Ah."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny glanced at me, frowning. "You sound like you know something."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"She doesn't think he really likes her as a person. She was giving it a chance but she feels like he only wants to fuck her, there's no feelings involved."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He scoffed. "Why do girls always do that?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What?" Okay, I was feeling defensive.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You know. Act like a guy doesn't give a shit because he's a guy. Of course he likes her, he wouldn't keep taking her back otherwise."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I don't think it's because he's a guy, Johnny; it's because he won't show her that he gives a shit. I know you give a shit about me because you tell me <em>and</em> you show me. If Dutch doesn't make her feel loved, maybe it's for the best. They can both find better people."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"He's just gonna be really pissed until he does."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"And fuck up the next guy she goes out with, right? I've heard all about you and Daniel LaRusso, Johnny."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I'm past that now." His grip on the steering wheel was white-knuckled.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I hope you are, because I don't want you getting hurt or arrested and losing your place at college. It's bad enough we're both going away, I'd lose my shit if I had to leave you here."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Not gonna happen, babe."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Good, because I'd have to kick your ass myself."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"As if you could." Johnny laughed.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"It's the thought that counts."</p>
</div><hr/>
<p></p><div>
  <p>
    <b>Saturday 11th May, 1985.</b>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>Clink.</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>I woke up groggy, bleary eyed and feeling dizzy. It was dark outside. Peering at the alarm clock, I noticed it was 3am.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>Clink.</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>This time I registered the noise as gravel stones hitting the glass of my bedroom window.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>Clink.</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>I suppose I'd have to get up and find out which asshole was throwing shit at my window. Johnny would just have used the key under the mat and let himself in.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>Clink.</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>I crawled out of bed and threw on a tshirt, then shuffled zombie-like in the direction of the window. I pushed it open at exactly the wrong moment, and a stone hit me dead in the forehead.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"<em>Shit</em>." It was Dutch.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I blinked away the pain, eyes watering. "What the fuck, man. What are you doing here?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What do you think? I wanna buy you an icecream." He'd obviously been drinking. "Where's Johnny?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"At home probably. He has work in the morning. Wait, did you drive here?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Maybe."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You're wasted. It's a fucking miracle you're alive. Stay there, I'm coming to get you."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I pulled on some jeans and snuck out the front door, round to the side of the building adjacent to my window. I noticed his bike in the parking lot.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You okay?" I asked when I saw him. He didn't look okay.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Roxy broke up with me."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Shit. I'm sorry. Let's go inside, but my mom's asleep so be quiet."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I led Dutch around to the front of my building, up the stairs, into the apartment and through the living room to my bedroom. I threw the comforter back over the bed and sat on top.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Sorry about the mess. Wasn't really expecting company besides Johnny, and he already knows I'm a total fucking disaster, so..."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Whatever." He said, before actually registering the boxes of tapes on the floor or the pile of laundry on my desk. I'd been pre-packing for college, trying to decide what I could try and cram into my dorm room. "Huh. Barely looks like a chick's room at all."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"How so?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Lack of guys in makeup on your walls or pink shit everywhere, mostly."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Like you and Johnny don't like your fair share of guys in makeup." I rolled my eyes. "Why'd Roxy break up with you, anyway?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dutch looked genuinely sad then and I almost felt shitty for asking. He sat on the bed beside me. "She said she didn't think I really cared about her and she wanted to be with someone who did. She was pissed about the prom, and tonight when I was joking around with you guys, and everything I guess."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I'm sorry, man. That sucks. I was hoping she'd change her mind."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What? You knew?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"No, I didn't, I-"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Whatever. Thanks for the heads up."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I didn't know when or <em>if</em> she would do it. I was hoping she'd figure out what a great guy you can be."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dutch blew out a long breath. "I fucked it, just like I fuck everything."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You don't fuck everything. You're just, I don't know you that well, but I don't think Kreese did any of you any favors on the communication front."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You don't know the fucking half of it."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I know."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I did like her."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I'm sorry."</p>
  <p>Fuck, I felt shitty. I had this gnawing feeling that if I'd said something, maybe he'd have been able to change things. But tellling him would have betrayed Roxy's trust and might have made everything worse, and then I'd have ruined my one major friendship with a girl and potentially pissed off all the guys too.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I sighed. "Maybe it's for the best. You deserve someone who you can be close with, who never doubts how you feel."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He laughed and looked up at my ceiling. "If we're talking chicks I'm close with, that's a list of uh... One."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"So who's the lucky girl?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dutch looked at me with something I couldn't, didn't want to place.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Don't look at me like that." I looked away from him, fixed my eyes on anything else in my room.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He was drunk and sad and I was with Johnny, and I loved Johnny <em>so damn much</em>, and Dutch was his best fucking friend, I couldn't even remotely entertain this, despite how my heart ached seeing him so fucked up over Roxy, who was <em>my friend</em>, might I add. What kind of shitty fucking person would even be thinking about that right now?</p>
</div><div>
  <p>And then his hand came up to my jaw to turn my face back towards him, and I let him, shaking like a fucking leaf the whole damn time. I opened my eyes to look into his and they were so close to the same shade of brown as mine that it was like looking in the mirror.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Dutch..." My voice came out a whisper, and I didn't even have time to clear my throat before his lips were on mine, surprisingly soft, and strong, the slight scratch of stubble against my face.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Before I registered what I was doing, my mouth opened to him and I was kissing him back, my tongue caressing that scar on his lower lip that had seemed so appealing earlier.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>Fuck.</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>No.</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>Dawn!!!</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>What the fuck?</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>I pulled away and breathed out a heavy, sad sigh. "Dutch. We can't. You know that."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah. I know."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I'm in love with Johnny, and if he ever found out about this he'd kill us both. Worse yet, he'd be heartbroken. I can't do that. Can we just pretend this never happened?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You're right." He sat back and I was so grateful for the distance between us that I could have cried.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Look, you're drunk so you should stay, but I'll take the couch."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Don't be stupid. I'll take the couch."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Okay. No drunk driving, though."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You're worse than my mother." Dutch laughed. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"<em>Promise me</em>. Otherwise I'll flip and you don't know how much crazy I am capable of."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Okay. I promise." He rolled his eyes at me, anyway.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Let me get you a blanket, and here," I thrust my spare pillow at him. "You'll need that."</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Fun fact, my ex-fiance's best friend did kiss me and it basically played out like this. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please comment, kudos, subscribe, bookmark, etc. It's like coffee and chocolate rolled into one for me.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Two Different Worlds</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is a short one. Cleaning up the mess that was made last time, kinda.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p></p><div>
  <p>
    <b>Monday 20th May, 1985.</b>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dutch and I were very much <em>not discussing</em> the kiss. Not that he even had my phone number if he'd wanted to, in fact, I didn't even know how he'd got my address when he showed up here. I'd woken up in the morning and he hadn't been there on the sofa, the blanket folded neatly on top of the pillow, but still warm.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>To be honest, I was coping primarily by pretending it hadn't happened. As far as I was concerned, he hadn't appeared at my apartment in the middle of the night, he hadn't told me about Roxy until we saw each other at the mall with Johnny on Monday, and he certainly hadn't kissed me. Since he hadn't kissed me, I hadn't enjoyed it, and I didn't have to deal with whatever <em>that </em>fucking meant.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>As long as I refused to admit to myself that I was, <em>had been</em>, having something resembling genuine emotions regarding Dutch, they didn't exist, and Shrödinger's crush could stay in its fucking box.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I steeled myself for results day, running my fingers through my freshly-cut hair. I'd been growing my perm out for a bit and I had been ready to finally get rid of it. I'd gone to the salon on Sunday afternoon and had the length hacked off into a bob that sat above my jawline, sharp and edgy and cool. The new look made me feel ready for just about anything life had to throw at me. Graduation, college, Johnny. Anything. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>God, I felt guilty, compounded by the fact that when I'd seen Johnny, I'd known it wasn't that I wanted or loved him any less. He was my entire world, the person I wanted to grow old with, share my life with.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I sat on the bus, wearing my headphones, listening to Joan Jett's <em>Album </em>on my walkman as I had been during quiet moments for the last couple of days, and found it wasn't driving my thoughts away as I had hoped.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The unfortunate truth was, I was actually at my happiest between the two of them. Dutch making dirty jokes and Johnny getting embarrased, them talking to each other about the choreography in martial arts movies, or muscle cars, or anything I didn't really have an input on, half-ignoring me.</p>
  <p>For fucks sake, they spent almost as much time touching as Johnny and I did and I absolutely soaked in that energy when we were all together. I wondered if in another universe, one infinitely cooler, where Reagan wasn't president and the AIDS crisis and the resulting homophobia wasn't raging in the background of everything, if they might have explored that intimacy in another way.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I found that thought strangely appealing, and shook my head like goddamn etch-a-sketch to get rid of it. Thinking dirty thoughts about my boyfriend and his best friend was fucking perverse and that was absolutely not where I needed my brain to go.</p>
</div><div>
  <p><em>The French Song</em> came on and I found myself giggling hysterically when I heard the lyrics.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>J'aime faire I'amour sur tout a trois.</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Only I could have a song about threesomes play seemingly at random while I was thinking about the absolute fucking mess I was in. Maybe my subconscious was telling me something through my choice in tapes.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I got off the bus in front of the school, and noticed Johnny sitting side-saddle on his bike, the gang surrounding him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Dawn?" Johnny said as he saw me. He didn't look pleased. "What the fuck?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>My heart was instantly in my throat. Had Dutch told him? I mean if he had, it served me right, but they <em>looked</em> cool with each other. What had he said?</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Wait, no. Dutch was looking dumbstruck at me too. It couldnt be that.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"<em>What did you to to your</em> <em>hair</em>?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>In all my internal chaos I must have forgotten to tell Johnny about my visit to the salon.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh. Isn't it cute?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"It's <em>gone.</em>"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I wanted to get rid of the perm. You don't like it?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"It's not that, but you should have told me."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Normally this controlling shit would have me yelling and storming off, but after last weekend I guess I felt like I deserved to at least stand there and take it.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You don't tell me when you get your hair cut."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I don't need to, I'm a guy. I don't do drastic shit out of the blue."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"So what, because I'm your girlfriend you own me and I have to consult you on every style choice? You gonna start picking out my clothes too? <em>Jesus Christ</em>."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I think it looks pretty." Bobby said, always the peacekeeper.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dutch was silent, his gaze anywhere but me, and most definitely not rocking the boat here.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Jimmy and Tommy were also staying out of it.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny looked a lot more upset than I'd even considered he would over a haircut.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Okay, you know what? I don't want to have this fight." I said, slinging my backpack higher up my shoulder. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I love you, and I'll see you after I get my results. If you're still mad after then we can talk about it."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>School was basically out for the seniors, since the exams were done, there wasn't really any point in being there. Until we had to go back and find out how we had done, anyway, so I hadn't seen the guys as much as usual. I was kinda grateful for it.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I got pretty much as I'd expected - mostly As with a couple of Bs. Nothing too surprising. I'd be graduating soon, and then going to Stanford, a long way from either Dutch <em>or</em> Johnny. That made me feel sick, but so did being here like this. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>I walked back outside, over to wait by Johnny's bike. Hopefully he'd come back soon and we'd figure whatever his issue was out.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You good?" <em>Dutch</em>.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I closed my eyes and blew out a breath. "Yeah. You?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah. Sorry about Johnny."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Me too. He'll get over it, though. I hope."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"He's not good with change." Dutch shrugged. "He'll be fine."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I know. I should have expected it. Pretty low on my list of recent fuck ups, though."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Thanks, by the way. For not freaking out and for letting me crash."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I looked around. We were completely alone, thank God.</p>
  <p>"I wasn't going to let you drive like that." I heard the genuine concern in my own voice and I groaned internally, knowing in that moment that I was thoroughly fucked.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dutch rubbed a hand over his face. "This is so fucked up."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You know I love him, right? And I'm not just saying that, I really do. I can't fuck this up."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I know. Believe me, I fuckin' know. I've been friends with Johnny since we were kids."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I'm sorry."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Me too."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Are we cool?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dutch sighed. "Yeah, I guess so. I graduated because of you, be shitty of me to be a jerk to you now."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Cool. Because you're too much of an asshole to be on my bad side. I don't want that." I let a little teasing edge fall into my voice and I didn't know if that was better or worse than just saying what was really on my mind.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny exited the main building, looking pleased with himself. Bobby, Jimmy and Tommy weren't far behind. Hopefully the good news had softened his anger, shock, whatever.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He spotted me and looked, well, I suppose regretful is the word. He came over to us, nodding a greeting to Dutch, and those blue eyes of his damn near ripped my heart in two when he put his arms over my shoulders and stared down, searching my face.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I'm sorry I didn't warn you." I said, voice smaller than I intended.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I'm sorry I lost my shit. It wasn't a big deal, I just... I'm bad with sudden changes."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah. I should have maybe guessed that. I know you well enough to have. I just wasn't thinking."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"It does look cute. And you don't have to ask me about anything you want to do."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Cool. But I'll try and tell you next time, alright?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Alright."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dutch cleared his throat. I felt extra bad for making him third-wheel with us now. "So we celebrating tonight? Who's buying the beer?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You've got the ID, man." Johnny said.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I'll pay. I wanna treat you guys for once." I said, pulling my wallet out.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"She really is the perfect woman, isn't she, man?" Johnny said to Dutch.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>My heart fucking ached when Dutch replied, "Pretty damn close."</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Triad</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This could probably have gone in with the last chapter. Sorry!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div>
  <p><b>Tuesday 21st May, 1985</b>.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Mom?" I called into the apartment as I closed the door behind me. It was early, like 8.30am, and I'd stayed at Johnny's place last night to avoid any lectures for coming home drunk. She might not be up yet, I figured.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yes, sweetie?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p><em>Okay. Just do it, Dawn</em>. <em>No preamble, just ask.</em> "Mom? Have you ever been in love with more than one person at the same time?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Why, baby? Are you?" She came out of the kitchen, coffee in hand, and walked around to sit on the sofa. Surprisingly casual and low-judgement.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I think so." The whole of last night I'd been over analyising everything Dutch did or said, and I'd come to the annoying conclusion that I actually really liked him. I still liked Johnny, but the two weren't competing feelings. They just... Existed. Together.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>What I felt for Johnny was solid, real, deep love that wasn't easily shaken. I'd do anything for him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>My mom sighed sadly, patted me on my knee when I sat down next to her. "Once, before I met your dad and had you. It was the 60s, when free love was everyone's thing. We made a go of it for a few months, but it didn't work out."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You mean, all three of you?" I was shocked, hearing this about my fairly cool but generally straight-laced mother.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Mom laughed, reminiscing about a happier time. "Yes. They were friends, and <em>surprisingly</em> good at sharing."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Wow." My mind had been blown wide open. "I don't think Johnny would go for that."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"It was a different time, baby. And not with you all going off to college. It's hard enough when you're all sharing a studio, in each others pockets all the time. Who's the other boy?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"A friend of Johnny's. Like, really close friend. What should I do, Mom?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You want my honest advice, or Mom comfort?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Kinda both."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Leave it alone until you're done with college. If you want to keep things going with Johnny, then fine, but don't start something new now. It will only end in heartbreak for all of you."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Well, shit. My mom <em>was</em> always good with boy advice, and I had a feeling she was right. I still felt like I could cry.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"This is what romance novels put in the two-thirds mark, isn't it? The two gorgeous men and the heroine has to choose. Mom, it doesn't feel sexy or romantic or fun. It feels like shit."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Mom tsked disapprovingly at my language.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"It's not like one of them is secretly a total jerk. They're both good guys and I really care about them both."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Honey, that's real life for you. Men are rarely total bastards or complete saints. There's usually something flawed or redeeming about them, and yes, even your father had his good side. We wouldn't have been together so long if that weren't true."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Mom..."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hush, baby. It's okay. You're almost a woman now, you don't have to be mad at him on my behalf forever."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I'm pretty sure I'm mad at him for myself at this point."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Well, that's your choice to make."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>We sat in silence for a long moment until my Mom threw the paper at me.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Read your horoscope. That always makes you feel better."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>Mind what comes tumbling out of your mouth today, Leo. In your head, those thoughts might sound innocuous, yet once they’re uttered, they could come with more of a sting or snark than you intend.</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah. That didn't help at all. I'm going to bed until I stop feeling like an idiot."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Can I tell you something, sweetie?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I tilted my head, a silent indication to continue.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Now you're grown, you never stop feeling like an idiot. That includes me."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Well, I'm definitely fucked. Wake me when it's time for college."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"<em>Language</em>, Dawn."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"If I'm grown enough to feel like this, I'm grown enough to curse like it."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Mom barked out a laugh. "I'll give you that."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I was halfway to my room when the phone rang, and being closer to it, I picked up. "Hi."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hey!" Roxy's melodic voice greeted me. "You wanna go shopping this afternoon?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She seemed not to be holding any grudges over me still being friends with Dutch. Being with Johnny at least gave me some breathing room on that front, and I was completely desperate for some girl time. I needed some new clothes for college anyway.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yes. Absolutely."</p>
  <hr/>
</div><div>
  <p>I found myself at the mall for the third time in two weeks. We were teenagers under legal drinking age, and so the mall was the center of our social world.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Roxy flicked through a rail of shirts looking for her size. "So how's everyone? I haven't seen the guys since..."</p>
</div><div>
  <p><em>Since you broke up with Dutch? </em>I thought.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"They're getting by. You know how it is, school's out so they're mostly screwing around together. I've been working more so I've seen less of them, too."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Is Dutch okay?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I remembered my horoscope and fought down the urge to say, <em>he just got dumped, how do you think he is? </em>She'd broken things off for a good reason, and it wasn't her fault that it had thrown me in the deep end, so I had no excuse for being shitty with her.</p>
  <p>I sighed, not really knowing how to answer. "Yeah, he will be."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Good! That's good."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I grabbed a pair of jeans and held them up against myself to decide if they would look good. "You excited for Texas?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yes!" Roxy's grin was huge. "I can't wait. What about you, excited for Stanford yet?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I laughed mirthlessly. "I'm dreading it. I'm gonna miss Johnny so bad. And everyone else."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Aww! I'll call you and give you my address phone number when I get my dorm info. We have to stay in touch."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I'd like that."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Okay, no more boy talk. Which do you prefer," Roxy held up two tops for me to look at, "blue, or green?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Blue. It goes with your eyes."</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. A View To A Kill</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>In which Johnny fixes some of the weirdness just by being an absolute darling.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div>
  <p>
    <b>Friday 24th May, 1985.</b>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>I'd just finished ringing up a customer when Johnny walked in, Dutch in tow.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hey, babe." He kissed me lightly on the cheek, just quick enough that Mitch wouldn't freak should he pop out and see. Mitch wasn't here, though. He'd gone home for lunch because his girlfriend was off work. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hey. What are you guys doing here?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"We're gonna go see a movie. The other guys are taking their girlfriends out, and since <em>my</em> girlfriend is working..."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Boy's day." I finished, getting the jist. "What are you gonna see?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Rambo 2." Dutch piped up from where he was wandering around the aisles.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh, cool." My interest in sweaty Sylvester Stallone was purely carnal, not the kind of movie to see with my beloved. "Hey, Johnny, can we go see A View To A Kill this weekend?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Sure."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dutch was looking at me warily. "I didn't know you liked Bond."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What can I say? I contain multitudes."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Okay," Dutch challenged. "So who's your favorite?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Sean Connery, obviously. Roger Moore couldn't fight his way through a troop of Girl Scouts."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Correct answer." He looked a little impressed and it made me want to die.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You could come with, if you wanted? I know you wanted to see it. Maybe you should ask that girl from the diner." Johnny suggested.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Nah, man. I'm good."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"New girl already?" The words were out of my mouth before I'd registered them in my head, and I didn't sound happy.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Just some waitress, she wasn't even flirting with me."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Bullshit. She kept calling him sweetheart."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"That definitely <em>sounds</em> like flirting." I managed to mostly keep the twang of something alarmingly like jealousy under wraps.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Well, she wasn't my type."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I laughed. "I thought the limits of your type were 'has a pulse'?" A low blow, and I regretted it as soon as I'd said it.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dutch frowned at me. "No, I decided I should find someone I can <em>be </em><em>close</em> <em>to</em> or whatever chick shit <em>you</em> think I should go for."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>Ouch, but possibly deserved.</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny was looking between the two of us, trying to piece together what we were saying and fill in the gaps of what we weren't. "What is it with you two? You've been weird as shit around each other for weeks now."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dutch kept his eyes on the display in front of him, nostrils flared and obviously pissed but not willing to say anything.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I was getting annoyed at having field all this myself, too. "It's nothing, Johnny. It's fine, I'm cool with going together."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Good. I know you're friends with Roxy but I still want you guys to get along."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"We're getting along. We've always made fun of each other!" I said. <em>Okay, too defensive.</em></p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Right." Johnny looked like he didn't quite believe me. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>Time to switch tactics.</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Dutch, tell him we're fine. Say you'll come to the movies with us, I can't stand his little sad face."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dutch shook his head, then rolled his eyes, finally throwing his hands up in surrender. "Fine. If you two will quit bitchin' at me, I'll come. Okay?"</p>
</div><hr/><p></p><div>
  <p>
    <b>Saturday 25th May, 1985.</b>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Can you zip me up?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>My mom was getting ready for work, rushing around last-minute as she always did, but I managed to throw on my dress and get out into the living room before she left.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Are you going out?" She took in the sight of me in my black cotton dress, with its high neck, batwing sleeves, corset-laced waist and full circle skirt. It was more dressy than I'd usually wear in the daytime, and not formal enough for a proper date. I was planning to wear it with my leather jacket and doc martens.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah. Johnny's taking me to see the new Bond movie."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Have fun, sweetheart. Things going well there?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah. He thinks I'm mad at his friend, though. The one I... Y'know. So we're all going to the movies."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Careful there, <em>that</em> almost classifies as a date." She nudged my arm teasingly.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I think he's bringing a girl, so that's good."</p>
  <p>It felt anything but good, but I had no reason to be mad. I wasn't available, he was. He could date anyone. I was only just coming around to the notion that I had these feelings, and wasn't currently willing to act on them. That realisation was freeing, but also accompanied by the truth that eventually he would meet someone else and I'd have to hold my peace, and that required me to not act like a fucking psycho all the time.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny had agreed to pick me up at 6.30 in time for the 7.30 showing, we'd meet them there, see the movie, and grab food after as a group. Just Johnny and I, Dutch and the waitress whose name I had shamefully not bothered to ask.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>At least I'd <em>thought</em> that was the plan until I got out to the car and Dutch was sitting there in the back, with no date.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"She said she was 'busy'," he offered by way of explaination, complete with air-quotes, "but your boyfriend wasn't letting me off the hook just because she wasn't interested."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny hopped into the driver's seat. "Nope, we're gonna have a great time anyway. Screw that bitch."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"<em>Johnny</em>!"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Sorry, babe."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"So what are we listening to?" I asked, steering the conversation away from the casual misogyny.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Ladies' choice. I know you were excited for that new U2 EP so I got it for you. It's in the glove compartment."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh, sweet! Thanks, Johnny. It's only like four songs, so I wasn't going to bother. It means a lot that you thought of it."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>That warm and fuzzy feeling when Johnny did something thoughtful spread through my whole body. He was very good at gifts, large and small.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You look really good."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I rolled my eyes, but my heart was doing backflips, and I was smiling. "Johnny, you always say I look good."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah, but you look extra good today. Dutch, tell her she looks good so she knows I'm not lying."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You look good, Dawn." Dutch said, a wry smile on his lips and ugh, my heart did that same little flip-flop, just smaller. The way it had when Johnny and I had been figuring things out at the start. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Thanks."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I distracted myself by looking for the tape, finally pulling <em>Wide Awake in America </em>out and flipping straight for side two.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The three of us were uncharacteristically quiet for most of the drive over, just enjoying the music. It was, surprisingly, not as awkward as I'd expected.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>We were queuing for popcorn and drinks, chatting away, when I noticed Roxy across the foyer, with a date of her own. Jesus, the guy looked like a knockoff version of Dutch - without the bleached hair and with a much weaker jawline, maybe a little shorter, which was weird because Dutch was pretty short, at least in comparison to Johnny. I really hoped she wouldn't come over, but of course that thought cursed it and she waved in our direction before making a beeline for us. Thankfully she'd left her companion over by the ticket stand.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Roxy at my 1 o'clock." I warned.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dutch tensed and Johnny put a hand on his shoulder. The solid weight of it seemed to calm him instantly, his face still thunderous but easing by the second.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hey, Rox." I said when she was standing right in front of us, trying to sound friendly despite the waves of hostility rolling off Johnny. Johnny and Dutch were both silent.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hey." She looked at Dutch for a moment, noticed the way he wasn't meeting her eyes. "Hi, Dutch. How are you?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hi, Roxy. That your new boyfriend?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"No, that's Steve. He's going to Austin, too. We're just hanging out."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Right." His voice was ice cold.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Okay, this was a bad idea." Roxy admitted. "I'm just gonna go. Yeah... See you around. Dawn, Johnny."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Bye." I said with a small smile.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny didn't even have the decency to wait until she was out of earshot to mutter, "I can't believe her fucking nerve."</p>
  <p>I turned to tell Johnny off, I didn't think Roxy coming over was wise but she was still my friend, but stopped dead when I saw the look on his face. He was just being protective.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dutch shook his head. "Whatever, man. She doesn't matter. Let's just see the movie."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I itched to reach out and comfort him, but thankfully Johnny had that covered, his arm resting on Dutch's shoulder casually. I laced my fingers through Johnny's in his other hand so I could feel a bit more grounded.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I learned several things about Dutch that evening. One; he drank his soda ridiculously fast. Two; he preferred sweet and salty popcorn to buttered. Three; he could probably eat his own body weight in popcorn given the opportunity, as I noticed when he'd finished his and I offered the guys mine. I liked the taste, but hated the way the sharp little kernels stuck in my teeth until I was too annoyed to continue.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The film was ridiculous. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The premise was dumb, and Roger Moore looked ancient and unsexy and everything that James Bond <em>shouldn't</em> be. The one saving grace was that the theme song was rad, and somehow on the way out of the movie theatre I found myself singing it, much to Johnny's amusement.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>Dance into the fire</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>That fatal kiss is all we need</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>I was utterly fucking delighted when Dutch joined in. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>Dance into the fire</em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>To fatal sounds of broken dreams</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny cracked up, throwing an arm around each of us. I slid my arm around Johnny's waist and hugged him close, falling in step with a little effort. The backs of my fingers inadvertently brushed Dutch's side, and I was honestly too happy and relaxed to panic about the contact.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I didn't want the evening to end, so when we got to Johnny's car, I invited them both over.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I should get home." Dutch said.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You sure?" I asked, trying to be cool.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah, I have to, I have a thing." He didn't, and I knew it. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>I also knew that was showing on my face when I asked, "Really?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Caught out, but in good humor, he laughed, "No, but I should leave you two to it."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"We're having a good time, right?" I asked softly, looking to Johnny for backup.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah, man. It'll be fun." Johnny confirmed. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>That was the key to turning the tide. I noticed that Dutch was game for pretty much anything Johnny suggested, and the reluctance yesterday had been entirely about how awkward I'd made things.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I hoped this could be an olive branch.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I'll order pizza and we can just hang out."</p>
  <p>"Okay."</p>
  <hr/>
</div><div>
  <p>"Johnny, can you put the tape in?" I was somewhat preoccupied rummaging around in the kitchen for glasses. "I left it on the top of the machine."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Got it," he called back.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You want a soda, Dutch?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Sure, I'll drink whatever."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>My mom had taped Saturday Night's Main Event for me a couple of weeks ago, but I hadn't had the chance to watch it yet. Maybe that was fate. The three of us sat in front of the TV, pizza box on the coffee table now half empty, totally engrossed in the match between Hulk Hogan and some Russian guy, who were fairly beating the shit out of each other.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You know this is fake, right?" Johnny asked. "There's no way that's possible."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Some of it is, but look at it. It's <em>art</em>."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dutch's knee jostled mine as he shifted in his seat. "They're pretty good, yeah."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I sighed wistfully, watching as Hulk clotheslined the huge Russian guy. "I wish I could fight like that."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah right, princess." Dutch scoffed.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Don't call me princess, asshole. I'm serious!"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Women can't fight." Johnny shook his head.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh, bite me."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"If you say so." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>I squeaked as Johnny turned his face next to mine and nipped at my earlobe.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You're such a jerk." I laughed, pushing him away and trying to watch the match.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I noticed Dutch smiling to himself at the two of us.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>A few minutes passed before Johnny's fingertips brushed my knee, finding my skin cold. The room <em>was</em> a little cool, I'd turned the air conditioning on and hadn't paid attention to the setting. I hadn't really noticed because I was sandwiched between them, and shared body heat worked wonders. Upon his discovery, Johnny chuckled to himself and wordlessly grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch, throwing it over all three of us. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny held my hand, stroking relaxing little circles over the back. I didn't realize how tired I was, until the next thing I knew was Johnny shaking me gently and whispering my name.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I blinked my heavy eyelids open, looking around disoriented. My head rested on something warm and solid, but Johnny was the other side of me, still holding my hand, and what?</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I lifted my head and turned, finding that I'd been resting on Dutch's shoulder.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You fell asleep, babe."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Mm." I murmured. "Sorry. You guys leaving?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah, it's late. I'm giving Dutch a ride home. I'll call you in the morning." He said sweetly. He kissed me softly on the forehead.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I still wasn't quite awake, brain barely processing anything. "Yeah, okay. Love you."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Love you too."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"See you, Dawn." Dutch's hand landed on my leg as he pushed himself up from the couch and the side of my body where he had been felt cold when he moved away.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"See you." I replied.</p>
</div><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Jigsaw</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Bobby lets something slip, and Dawn puts together another piece of the puzzle.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Monday, 27th May, 1985.</strong>
</p><p>Every memorial day, I spent time with my mom. Sometimes we'd talk about her dad, but mostly we'd just have a quiet breakfast together and maybe watch movies on the couch. It was a little odd, dedicating time to reminiscing about the life of a man neither of us had ever met, but it had been a mother-daughter ritual between my mom and my grandma, and my mom had kept it up with me.</p>
<p></p><div>
  <p>This was the first time I was bailing early to spend time with a boy and his family, and as much as my mom reassured me it was fine, I was still kinda sad about it.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny insisted this was the highlight of their summer, though, and I had to be there, along with his friends.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>We pulled up outside Johnny's house in my mom's navy blue Mercury Monarch, and I was trying to gently separate my sweaty bare legs from the black leather seats so I could climb out. Shorts had definitely been a mistake.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"This is his house?" Mom asked, looking over at the mansion.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"His stepdad's, yeah."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Wow."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I know. Scary, isn't it?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I'll say." We were from a disturbingly long line of widows and divorcees; my family had never been wealthy or had much luck with men, so the idea of me dating a boy who lived somewhere like this was probably a bit surreal for my mom. "You're alright getting home tonight?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I think Johnny's gonna give me a ride." I said, bracing myself for the squeak-and-rip as I detached myself from the seat. "I'll call a cab if not."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Okay. Love you, sweetie."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Love you too, Mom."</p>
  <p>I slammed the car door behind me and jogged up the driveway.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny met me at the front door just when I was about to knock, a frown on his face and headphones around his neck. His white shirt clung to his chest so beautifully I almost forgot he looked mad.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hey, babe." He stood back to let me step past him into the foyer.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hi. Everything okay?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He shook his head. "Sid being Sid. Come on, the guys are out back."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>We walked through the house, grabbing a couple of cokes from the fridge on our way out to the back yard. There was a splashing noise from somewhere in the direction of the pool, and we both instinctively turned towards it.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Shit, I hope that isn't Dutch. Bobby's over there." Johnny pointed him out. "Go say hi."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I noticed Bobby hanging around by the buffet table, loading up his plate, and I walked over.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hey."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"How are you?" I asked, grabbing a plate of my own and filling it with various dishes.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Pretty good. You?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Not so bad."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The silence between us was pretty awkward, and I wasn't sure why. Things had been fine last time I'd seen Bobby.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"My mom's here somewhere, I should go find her." He said, turning away, but at the last minute he turned back to me. He looked around for a second to make sure no one would overhear and then opened his mouth, brow furrowed. "Is there something going on with you and Dutch?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p><em>Jesus fuck. </em>"No, why?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I've seen the way he looks at you, Dawn."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I tried to laugh it off, and knew I sounded nervous. "We're just friends. He looks at Johnny like that too."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The little line between Bobby's eyebrows deepened. "That's what I'm worried about."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>What the fuck was that supposed to mean?</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I don't know what to say, Bobby."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He shrugged, almost too casually. "Be careful. They're both... I don't know. Just be careful."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Alright."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Try the potato salad, by the way, it's really good."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I nodded and, reeling, watched him walk back to his family. My mind was racing a thousand miles an hour, eventually leveling out to white noise as I stared into the middle distance. I jumped about a mile when Johnny appeared behind me with a quick and much more cheerful, "All good."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Aaagh!" I squeaked.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny chuckled softly. "Hey, I didn't mean to get the jump on you like that."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"It's fine," I laughed as my heart rate began to return to normal. "I was just in a world of my own."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Did I mention I'm glad you're here?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Well, you know me. I can't resist a good potato salad."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh, so you're only here for the potato salad?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I loved the teasing edge in Johnny's voice. I stuck a forkful from my plate into my mouth. "It is <em>really</em> good potato salad."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny stuck his hand out and pinched a bite from my plate, shoving it quickly in his mouth and licking his fingers clean.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Rude." I admonished him, but I couldn't help laughing, especially when he grinned back at me.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You're right. It is pretty good."</p>
</div><div><p>"You're such a <em>jerk</em>." I was full-on giggling now, trying to keep even the slightest hint of disapproval in my voice. "It's a good job I love you."</p><p>He smiled, and oh how I loved his stupid dumb awful gorgeous handsome <em>perfect</em> face. I found him maddening, in the best way possible.</p><p>"C'mon, babe. Let's go hang out by the pool."</p><p>By the pool, Dutch was soaked and peeling off his t-shirt. Apparently, he'd made a joke about Jenny, and Jimmy had shoved him in the deep end. </p><p>"He deserved it." Jimmy said, grinning.</p><p>"I bet. He usually does." I laughed as Dutch gave me a foul look.</p><p>His jean shorts were dripping water everywhere, wet denim clinging to his skin. <em>Fucking hell, that's unfair. </em>I thought, before I caught myself. Johnny's arm was around my shoulders and his body was hot against mine, even in the heat of the midday sun. I wasn't going to feel guilty for this anymore, but I wasn't going to stand here fucking staring either. </p><p>"I need a drink."</p>
<hr/><p>Much later in the evening, when Johnny's parents and their friends had long-since migrated back indoors, Tommy, Bobby, Dutch, Johnny, and I sat at the bottom of the garden, huddled around as the night got cooler. Jimmy had left early to go out for dinner with Jenny.</p><p>At some point, Johnny's stash had been retrieved from his sock drawer, and the rolling duties had been passed to me so I rolled a few for the rest of the evening. The first joint made its way around the five of us, and we really just chatted shit about whatever was on our minds. College, girls, TV shows, anything and everything. </p><p>I declared that I needed to pee, which Tommy and Bobby seemed to take as their cue to say they needed to leave - they lived in the same direction and would ride back that way together. I hugged the two goodbye, before sneaking into the pool house bathroom.</p><p>After I'd washed my hands, I headed back to the corner where I'd left the boys. From a distance, I could hear their laughter, the comfortable sound of them talking; slightly high, very silly. I rounded the corner where I could see them more clearly in the twilight. The joint was in Dutch's hand, his mouth over Johnny's.</p><p>
    <em>Oh. Whoa.</em>
  </p><p>They parted, and Johnny let out a smoky exhale.</p><p>
    <em>Ah. Right.</em>
  </p><p>Maybe I'd got the wrong end of the stick, they were obviously shotgunning the drag Dutch had taken.</p><p>Until Johnny, shaking, leaned back in, and Dutch bridged the rest of the distance until they were kissing in earnest. All the while, I was standing there watching them, awestruck.</p><p>"Jesus." I said, and both of their gazes snapped to look at me. "I'm going to need that joint back."</p></div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>It's a short one and I'm sorry to leave it on a cliffhanger! Also sorry in advance to anyone disappointed that this is no longer just a M/F couple, but we've gone full polyamory over here and these three fools are going to figure it out eventually. It's just going to take a while, maybe. There will be mutual pining!</p><p>shout out to snowshus and their cobra kai drabble challenge for further inspo to write that shotgun scene, because I'd been thinking about it and theirs was so good I couldn't resist.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. If You Think You Know How To Love Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Johnny and Dawn figure out what that kiss meant, and Dawn comes clean.<br/>This one's smutty.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Tuesday 28th May, 1985.</strong>
</p><p>It was little after midnight. Dutch had left quickly after I discovered them kissing and now it was just me, Johnny and his bedroom. We kept the window closed, despite the summer heat, because we didn't want anyone overhearing our conversation. A handful of Johnny's mom's friends were still downstairs, drinking and listening to music.</p><p>"Dawn-" Johnny said, trying once again to explain.</p>
<p></p><div>
  <p>I held up my hand for what seemed like the hundredth time. "I know I'm supposed to be angry, but I'm not. I'm hurt, but I'm not angry with you."</p>
</div><p>"That's worse." He groaned.</p>
<p></p><div>
  <p>He was right, it was. Anger I'd have known what to do with. If I'd been angry, I'd have given myself permission to be sad too. I'd have gone home and cried to my mom, and eaten my weight in mint chocolate ice cream. This was so much worse because I didn't know where to go or what to do about it. I planned out every fucking inch of my life, and when something went wrong I made a new plan as soon as I could. This was dumbfounding, and there wasn't a way to plan around it.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I held my head in my hands. Part of me wanted to cry, the rest was too fucking astounded to.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I deserve this, it's karma. When Dutch kissed me after Roxy broke up with him, I said that telling you would be a mistake and it couldn't happen again. And now I walk in on you kissing him. This is clearly some huge cosmic joke at my expense."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Dutch kissed you?" Johnny asked, his fists clenched. As if Dutch kissing me in his moment of weakness was worse than what Johnny had done.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh, no. You don't get the moral high ground here, Johnny. None of us do. I saw you lean in for that kiss first."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I kept seeing that moment in my head, feeling like the image was burned onto my retinas.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I'm sorry! Like I said, it's just something that's happened a couple times when we're high. It doesn't mean anything."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I hadn't heard, or rather, I hadn't listened when he'd said that before. My mind had been white noise through whatever happened after that kiss. I'd sat down in the grass and tried to breathe to stop myself spiraling while I finished the joint they'd been sharing. I needed to zone out so I didn't entirely lose my shit while my whole world imploded around me. Maybe that had been a mistake, but I couldn't bring myself to give a shit.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"So, what? Our relationship doesn't mean anything? Because that's what's at risk. Has it happened before, since we've been dating?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"No."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>Was it going to happen again? </em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Would you have told me if I hadn't seen you?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Babe, please, I love you."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>That wasn't an answer. A lie by omission, and I was getting very familiar with those. "Do you? Or do you love Dutch?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"He's a guy-" </p>
  <p>Johnny was dodging the question again. I didn't know if he knew or not, or if he was just very used to not thinking about those feelings and this was his go-to reason for not.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I've seen the way you are together, Johnny! If you're gay, just be honest with me. I won't tell anyone."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He had the fucking gall to sound offended, as if I'd not just caught him with his tongue down his best friend's throat as the sun set. "I'm not gay. I just, I've kissed one guy. I date babes, okay? I'm with you."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I rubbed my hand across my face and stood to start gathering my belongings. "I just don't know how we're supposed to trust each other now. Fuck, I'm too tired for this."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Please don't leave. I screwed up, bad, but I can't lose you." He sounded like his heart was breaking and I hated being the person responsible.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Fucking hell, why couldn't we catch a break? It was too late to get in a cab alone and I didn't think Johnny was safe to drive me either. I weighed up the pros and cons of staying, and came to a conclusion.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Okay."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny excused himself to the bathroom, and I sat on the edge of his bed, alone with my own thoughts.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>What the fuck am I doing? He kissed someone else, and he'd initiated it. That was cheating, right? It isn't magically okay because I also like the other guy. But I love him so much, and is one stupid intoxicated kiss enough to destroy that?</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>How the fuck are we going to cope at college, when we're nearly 3000 miles apart, when I won't know if he's kissing anyone else, or worse?  Is that something I'm just going to have to be okay with? In other circumstances, I wouldn't have minded him kissing Dutch because I know him, and I like him. What will it be like if it's someone I don't know?</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny stepped back into the room, shirtless. The brooding look on his face didn't suit him and I felt a strong urge to do just about anything to make it go away.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I put my arms out and let him come to me, resting my forehead against his abs and clutching onto his lower back with desperate fingertips. He stroked my hair gently, those strong fingers surprisingly delicate when they wanted to be.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I love you, Johnny. So goddamn much. I just don't know how to fix this."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I'll do whatever you want."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I think... I think I need to think about it. I think we both do."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I let him go and undressed, throwing on one of his t-shirts and climbing under the covers like I did any other time I stayed over. He slipped in beside me and it was like nothing had happened at all, aside from the heavy feeling in my chest. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>I turned away, and felt the warmth of his body move close against my back. His hand ghosted over my rib cage, and it would be so easy to just lean into him, let him work every bit of anxiety from my body with those deft hands.</p>
</div><div>
  <p><em>Jesus</em>, I couldn't believe I was contemplating this. I opened my mouth to say something, and all that came out was his name, in a needy whine.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He pressed a kiss to my shoulder, and my breath faltered. Another kiss, higher on the curve of my trapezius muscle, had me quivering in his arms. A third and I was choking down a sob, the tenderness of Johnny's attention drawing out every bit of fear until was putty in his hands.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Babe, are you okay?" He whispered, his breath hot against the shell of my ear.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I gave a shaky nod, and when he flicked the clasp of my bra undone, I wiggled it loose to let him slip a hand beneath the cup.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>His fingers pinched my nipple, the sensation shooting straight through me, making me arch my back and grind against him. I felt his hardness press into me and it was like a dam broke inside me. I needed more of him. This wasn't how I wanted our first time to be, but the desperate need for him to fuck any last bit of doubt out of me was so fucking strong that I could barely breathe.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You feel how bad I want you?" Johnny mumbled into my neck.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yes. God, yes."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Then his hand was leaving my breast and tracing a firm line down my stomach, beneath the waistband of my pants.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>His fingers flexed into me and I let out a breathy sigh.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Don't you fucking dare stop." I gasped when his middle finger traced a line through my folds, dipping just deep enough to drag the wetness all the way up and circle my clit, making it swell with every pass until it was just as achingly hard as his cock pressed into me from behind.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Still, my body demanded more, his shallow thrusts against my ass making me painfully aware of his proximity; just a few inches and two thin layers of fabric and it would be so fucking easy to have him inside me.</p>
</div><div>
  <p><em>Oh, God</em> <em>.</em></p>
</div><div>
  <p>I wiggled in his arms until we were facing each other, and looked into his eyes as they searched my face for any hint of hesitation.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You really love me?" I asked, just a drop of the insecurity I felt in my voice.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Uh-huh." He murmured, the evidence of his need pressed against me when he hooked my leg over his hip.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Okay."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I shimmied away and out of my underwear, tossing the scrap of cotton over the side of the bed without a second thought.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny pulled me back to him hard, only his underwear separating us now.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Tell me what you want." He looked into my eyes and I could see up close that his pupils almost fully eclipsed his irises.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Fuck me like you're obsessed with me." I gasped as he pushed against my cunt, the cotton between us soaking through by the second.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>We looked at each other, panting, for what could have been half a second or ten, then our hands were pushing his boxers down and he was rolling on top of me and he sank home in one gorgeous thrust.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Fuuuuuuck."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>My eyes rolled back in my head. It was mind-blowingly intense, being filled and stretched just beyond the point of comfort.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He settled on his arms above me and pulled back to look down to where our bodies joined. "Oh, fuck."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny let out a shaky breath as he pushed back into me, moving so slowly it drove me crazy. It felt unbelievably nice, all heady and deliciously sweet, and that was all well and good, but right then I didn't want nice.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I wanted to feel him impale me on his cock, to fuck me so hard and deep that I could feel him in my throat, to make me forget my own goddamn name. I needed him to make me worship at his altar, until I was saying a breathless litany while I gripped those beautifully broad shoulders.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Johnny, <em>please</em>." I braced my legs on the bed and tilted my pelvis up to meet his. "Don't be gentle with me."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny made a little noise in his throat and shut his eyes tight as he pushed into me again.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Are you okay?" I whispered, suddenly afraid I'd done something wrong.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He opened his eyes to look at me. The desire in his gaze was undeniable and overwhelming.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah, but I'm not gonna last if you keep talking like that." His arms were shaking despite the thousands of push-ups he must have done to get them so damn muscular. Somehow I doubted his physical strength was the issue here.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Don't care." I thrust up to meet him again. "Need <em>all</em> of you."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Shit." He gasped, almost collapsing on top of me, coming to rest on his forearms and kissing me so thoroughly I couldn't think.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>We began to move again, then, desperately rutting until we couldn't keep a rhythm, all heavy breathing and quiet moans into each others mouths while he screwed my brains out.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>It really didn't last long like that. Johnny brought me closer to completion with every thrust, the tension building until he came inside me with a moan that I would be replaying in my head for the foreseeable future. That was enough to tip me over, and the aftershocks of his orgasm rode me through my own.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>We lay there, coming back to reality, for a long time, kissing and stroking each other until he was soft and slipping out of me.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I came back to my senses with an alarming thought that dragged me, kicking and screaming, out of my well-fucked stupor.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>We hadn't used a condom.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Johnny?" I said, trying not to sound quite as spooked as I was feeling.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He sighed happily, planting another kiss on my jawline as he nuzzled into my neck.  "Yes, babe?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"We forgot something."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I was gonna have to say it. "The condom?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What condom? <em>Oh</em>."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What do we do now?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I have no idea."</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. John, I'm Only Dancing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Dutch doesn't have a given name in canon yet, so here's my take.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Wednesday 5th June, 1985.</strong>
</p><p>Bobby and I settled back into our seats after walking the stage to collect our diplomas. Our whole year group had been divided alphabetically, and naturally Blake and Brown got placed together. I'd been avoiding the guys since Memorial Day, the events of that night just too weird to fully process yet.</p><p>Johnny and I were still together, for now, but we had a lot of things to figure out and we'd been taking things slow, dancing around each other, especially at work. I'd just about forgiven him for the kiss, but it had irreversibly changed things between us in a way that wasn't inherently good or bad just yet. My mom, after initially being angry on my behalf, had reminded me that sometimes things just evolve as they're meant to and it wasn't worth letting it ruin my summer.</p><p>A name called up in the list of students from another row caught my attention. "John Dutch," the announcer had said, and I saw a bleach-blonde head pop up, and its owner stride onto the stage. That grin on his face gave me a lot of confused feelings, and at best guess had 3 months to figure out what they were.</p><p>"Dutch's given name is <em>John</em>?" I whispered to Bobby, whose eyes flickered towards me briefly, before looking back to the stage.</p><p>"Yeah. Didn't you know?"</p><p>"No. I guess he doesn't go by it because of Johnny?"</p><p>"Yeah, it was confusing. Plus our old sensei's name is John."</p><p>"Huh."</p><p>"What happened the other night after we left? We haven't seen you for days." Bobby asked.</p><p>I thought about how to answer, eventually settling on "You don't want to know."</p><p>He chuckled. "That good, huh?"</p><p>"Not quite. I'll tell you about it if I'm ever drunk enough. But then I'm pretty sure I'd be unconscious."</p><p>"Ouch."</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>We sat in silence for a while. I'd mostly zoned out, watching my fellow students pass over the stage. Johnny was up next, followed by Daniel LaRusso. I realized they must have been sat together through the ceremony much as Bobby and I were, and idly I wondered how awkward that must have been for Johnny - if they'd bonded over their breakups with Ali or if they still hated each other.</p><p>Eventually, the ceremony came to an end and as we were filing out, Bobby split off to find his parents. I saw Johnny's mom standing with mine.</p><p>"Dawn!" Mrs. Weinberg called, holding her arms out as though she were there for me, not her son. I let her pull me into a quick hug, then I went to my mom. "I was just telling Patsy that we're going to the country club for dinner this evening, and you both absolutely have to join us as our guests!"</p><p>I looked nervously to my mom, who wore a beaming smile on her face. "Of course, Laura. Thank you so much for inviting us."</p><p>I felt a hand on my waist, large and warm and always surprisingly gentle. I looked up to see Johnny smiling down at me. Damn, he looked hot in that gown. I was pretty sure mine was a shapeless black sack, but everything looked good on Johnny.</p><p>His hand left my side, and he went to hug his mom.</p><p>"I'm so proud of my boy!" She gushed, as Johnny turned pink, smiling awkwardly. "And so <em>glad</em> he's met such a nice girl his senior year. Johnny tells me he couldn't have done it without you."</p><p>And now it was my turn to blush.</p><p>"It's such a shame you two are off to different colleges at the end of the summer, but you're going to work through it, aren't you?"</p><p>I looked at Johnny, still smiling though obviously embarrassed.</p><p>"I hope so." I answered honestly.</p><p>"Good. That's good. Hopefully you'll be one of the family soon enough." She flashed me a conspiratorial wink. "We should get going, but we'll see you at dinner."</p>
<hr/><p>I wore the little black cocktail dress from Valentine's Day, the sheer pantyhose underneath blessedly keeping my legs a layer away from sticking to the seats in my mom's car as we drove. Mom had her hair pulled up into a bun on top of her head, and was wearing a crushed velvet dress with shoulder pads that, had I worn it, would have made me look like a linebacker. She was petite and dainty, though, and she could pull it off, looking instead like one of the women from Dynasty, the absolute height of fashion and sophistication. We'd fit in with these stuffy old country club folks just fine, as long as we both kept our mouths shut.</p><p>That would prove harder, as we pulled into the parking lot for Encino Oaks country club. I felt ill-at-ease when I noticed Dutch, dressed remarkably sharp while talking to an older man outside. Based on the resemblance, I could only guess the man was his father. The older man's hair was blonde and his eyes were blue, but there was a lot of similarity in their facial features. A much shorter woman stood by his side, and it was immediately visible that that was Dutch's mom. Her dark hair, eyes, and general relaxed demeanor were a dead ringer for Dutch.</p><p>I climbed out of the car and prayed they'd go inside so I didn't have to pass by them as we walked in.</p><p>They didn't.</p><p>"Dawn." Dutch called my name, and he sounded kind of breathless when he did so. "I didn't know you'd be here."</p><p>"Dutch." I acknowledged him, sort of awkwardly. "Johnny's mom invited us. This is my mom, Patricia Blake. Mom, this is John Dutch, Johnny's friend, I mean, <em>my</em> friend from school."</p><p>Yeesh. My mom gave me a look.</p><p>"It's nice to meet you, John. But you can call me Patsy." </p><p>Dutch's parents were heading this way. I found myself standing up a little straighter as his dad looked me over, mild disapproval on his face.</p><p>"Mom, dad, this is Dawn from school, and her mom Patsy Blake."</p><p>"Colonel Thomas Dutch, and my wife Grace." He said with a slightly curt nod.</p><p>"We should go inside, I think Mrs. Weinberg is waiting for us." I said, half to my mom and half in apology to Dutch and his parents, before heading in.</p><p>I spotted Johnny instantly across the room, looking dashing in a dark blue suit. His face lit up when he saw me, and I grinned back. </p><p>"There they are." My mom said, and we walked over to their table.</p><p>Johnny's mom looked stunning, long blonde hair cascading down her shoulders, over the shimmery beige dress she wore complimenting her skin tone beautifully. Sid was noticeably absent and I was a little thankful. I avoided him as much as possible anyway, not wanting to get on his bad side with my big mouth and cause problems for Johnny.</p><p>"I hope you don't mind," Mrs. Weinberg said apologetically, "but my husband had to work late this evening. It'll just be the four of us."</p><p>"It'll be nice just to embarrass these two with Mom talk." My mom laughed.</p><p>Johnny, obviously making an effort to be gentlemanly, stood and pulled our chairs out for us.</p><p>"Johnny, you're a sweetheart. Laura, you've done a good job raising this boy."</p><p>"Thanks Ms- Patsy." He corrected himself quickly.</p><p>Johnny sat down beside me once he'd pushed my chair in, and his fingers brushed mine under the table.</p><p>Dinner went by without incident, mostly we just allowed our moms to tell stories about when we were little kids. It was kind of nice seeing Mrs. Weinberg so relaxed and chatty. She was always friendly, but with Sid around she always seemed more tense somehow. </p><p>"I've got a good one!" My mom declared. "When Dawnie was four, we took her to a botanical garden. They had this big, big pond complete with giant lily pads, toddler-sized. Of course, being four, she also thought the coolest thing in the world anyone could possibly be was a frog, so in she hops, and goes right under. My ex-husband had to jump in and fish her out himself!"</p><p>Our moms laughed at my childish naivete and I had to admit the story was pretty funny. </p><p>"Ooh, I have another. When Johnny was 7 one of the boys at his school told him Santa wasn't real, and he comes home to me very serious and asks if Santa exists. So I tell him, 'Sweetie, I'm sorry, no Santa is just a story grownups tell.' And my sweet angel boy here, heartbroken, turns to me and asks: 'Have you been lying to me about Jesus, too?' Oh gosh I about died!"</p><p>Johnny cradled his head in his hands to hide from the embarrassment. He looked over to me, saw me smiling at him, and grinned back, still looking a little pink in the cheeks.</p><p>"You wanna dance?"</p><p>Finally, an escape from our parents mortifying one-upmanship.</p><p>"I thought you'd never ask." I sighed, letting him take my hand and lead me to the dance floor.</p><p>We danced for a while. The choice of music, some swing instrumental by Glenn Miller, was equally inoffensive and uninspiring, but it was nice to just be close to Johnny without risk of it going further than this. </p><p>"This is nice."</p><p>Johnny chuckled. "Thought you'd hate it here."</p><p>"You're here, makes it worthwhile."</p><p>He didn't say anything, just held me a little tighter.</p><p>"Mind if I cut in?" Dutch asked, appearing from seemingly nowhere.</p><p>"Uhh..." I looked to Johnny.</p><p>Johnny gave me that little lopsided smile that made me weak at the knees, before handing me off to Dutch. "Have fun."</p><p>Dancing with Dutch was <em>really</em> different to dancing with Johnny. He was shorter, though still a good 4-5 inches taller than me, and broader than Johnny. His arm was softer than Johnny's where my hand rested, but still obviously strong. We'd never been this close before, really, and I couldn't help my mind wandering thinking about his body, appreciating the contrast. </p><p>"I'm sorry, about the other night." He said, and I had to blink myself back into the moment.</p><p>"You didn't lean in for that one first. You don't have to be sorry. I think we're all even about now." I hoped I sounded something like gracious.</p><p>He let out a relieved puff of air. "I missed hanging out with you. Both of you."</p><p>"That's good to hear." And it was, because I'd missed him being an asshole and making us all laugh.</p><p>"Is it?" He almost sounded nervous, and I kicked away the idea of making a joke to gloss over the vulnerability I heard in his voice, the vulnerability I felt myself mirroring.</p><p>"It is." I was going out on a limb here, but not wanting to miss an opportunity. "Maybe we could hang out again, sometime, the three of us? You'll have to check with Johnny, I don't know his entire schedule, but... I think I'd like that."</p><p>I looked up into his deep brown eyes and saw them crinkled at the edges. "What, like a date?" He laughed softly.</p><p>I didn't laugh. I didn't know exactly what I was suggesting, but if it wasn't a date then I <em>truly</em> had no idea.</p><p>"Oh."</p><p>The song finished and we parted. I noticed I was feeling a little shaky.</p><p>"Yeah. Think about it?" I asked, just as Johnny came back over to me. </p><p>Dutch nodded, and walked back to the table where he sat with his parents.</p><p>"Everything okay, babe?" Johnny searched my face for some clue as to what we'd been talking about, and wrapped his arms around me for the next dance.</p><p>"Yeah." I sighed. "I should probably have asked you first, but... Oh God, I hope you're not mad. I think I just asked Dutch on a date, for both of us."</p><p>Johnny blinked in surprise. "No shit?"</p><p>"Are you mad?" I winced.</p><p>He seemed to think for a long moment, but he wasn't tense, and he didn't let me go or worse, shove me away in revulsion. "I don't think so."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Like To Get To Know You Well</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Short one today, sorry. Setting up for tomorrow.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Friday 7th June, 1985.</strong>
</p><p>"Dee! You've got a customer." Mitch yelled from behind the counter. </p><p>I had no idea why he couldn't deal with them. <em>It's not like I was getting ready to go on my lunch break or anything</em>, I thought bitterly, dropping my coat and bag. Japan's <em>Gentlemen Take Polaroids</em> was playing in the store, and I absentmindedly mouthed the lyrics while I walked through from the back room.</p><p>I looked at Mitch, who nodded to the corner of the room. To Dutch, who was standing with his back to me, looking at a display and half-assedly flicking through the titles. Well, this was a surprise. Either he'd come to tell me he'd thought about my suggestion and to tell me to fuck off, or he'd come to arrange something. Johnny and I'd had some long conversations about how including Dutch in our romantic life might go, but it honestly hadn't occurred to us that Dutch might pursue me first. I supposed it must have been more familiar to try and go after a girl, though, versus your best friend of god knows how many years. </p><p>"You're not a customer." I whispered, letting a little flirtatious edge tip into my voice as I sidled up next to him, hoping I wasn't horribly misreading his presence. If we were doing this, I was going all in.</p><p>The look he gave me confirmed everything I needed to know. "Might be. <em>Could</em> be here to buy a record. Isn't that how Johnny asked you out?" </p><p>"Ah, you're stealing Johnny's moves now." I laughed, feeling a little easier. "What gives? You need me for something?"</p><p>He smiled, slow and cocky. "Turns out it's hard to plan a date if you don't have a girl's phone number."</p><p>"You have Johnny's, and he's the one you're supposed to be making plans with, isn't he? I'm just along for the <em>ride</em>." Yes, I did put a little emphasis on <em>ride</em> there, sue me.</p><p>He licked his lips and I found the movement so distracting I completely bypassed waiting for him to answer.</p><p>"I'm due a lunch break, and I'm supposed to meet Johnny. Wanna join us?" </p><p>"Sure."</p><p>"I'll get my jacket."</p>
<hr/><p>I saw Johnny's bike parked outside the diner we'd gone to that first day at work together, then noticed him sitting at a booth inside when we entered.</p><p>"Guess who I found?" I asked, sliding into the booth opposite Johnny and leaving Dutch to choose where to sit. I wasn't surprised when he told Johnny to move over to make space for him.</p><p>With us all seated together, I looked at a menu and tried to figure out what to order. I wasn't feeling majorly hungry. Fries and a milkshake sounded great, though.</p><p>The waitress came and went a couple of times while we made small talk, with burgers for the boys and my fries and chocolate shake. </p><p>I was pretty certain I was grinning like the Cheshire-fucking-Cat, smug as shit as I stared across the table.</p><p>"What?" Johnny asked, but he knew what. I'd nestled my boot in the space between their feet, and I'd tapped each of them to make them acutely aware of my presence.</p><p>"So we're really doing this?" I asked. </p><p>"I guess so. What d'you think, man?" Johnny looked at Dutch. If pressed, I'd have called his expression hopeful. </p><p>Dutch had had less time and opportunity to process this with another person than we did, so I didn't take the mildly distressed look on his face too personally. "How's this gonna work?"</p><p>"How do you want it to work?" I knew what I was hoping for, but I didn't want to push the issue.</p><p>"I thought you'd tell me. You brought it up."</p><p>"It's not like you can't have input. But, we're all into each other here, right? We had a good time together at the movies. How about we start there?"</p><p>Dutch nodded. "Yeah. So, just like that? Just <em>hanging out</em> together. What about...?" He trailed off, a little questioning tone at the end, and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. <em>Ah, sex</em>.</p><p>"We've got three months to figure that out, right?"</p><p>"Right." The hint of a smile was playing at the corner of his mouth and it was a fair bet he was thinking about all the things we could figure out in three months. I knew I was. </p><p>"What happens after that?" Johnny raised a great point, one we hadn't discussed amongst ourselves. </p><p>"We'll all be in different cities, so, I don't know. Bit of a heavy topic for a first date, though, right? Why don't we start," I grabbed a pen out of my bag and a napkin from the table and started jotting my phone number down, "by making sure we can all call each other if we need to."</p><p>I slid the napkin over to Dutch, then grabbed a fry from my plate and dunked it in my shake. It wasn't lost on me that both Dutch and Johnny followed its movement to my mouth. <em>Oh hell yes</em>, this was going to be fun. </p>
<hr/><p>When I arrived back at the store, alone, Mitch looked at me strangely.</p><p>"Who was that, picking you up?" He asked.</p><p>"A friend of Johnny's."</p><p>"Some friend." Mitch didn't sound impressed, and looked even less so. </p><p>"If you've got something to say, say it, Boss." I was decidedly not in the mood for any judgement that would bring me down. </p><p>"No." A pause. Always winding up to something. "Why were you all over one of Blondie's buddies?"</p><p>That raised my hackles. "First off - I wasn't <em>all over</em> anybody. Secondly, if you want to ask about my love life you should just fucking ask normally, instead of hiding behind work when you want to, and then acting like you're my fucking dad when you don't."</p><p>"What the <em>fuck</em> is that supposed to mean?" Mitch bit back. </p><p>"I <em>mean</em>, I'm only fucking going to Stanford because of you. Otherwise Johnny and I would <em>both</em> be going to Northridge instead, and yeah it's a worse school but we'd all be fucking staying in the Valley."</p><p>I pushed through behind the counter so I could ditch my stuff in the back, and then back through onto the shop floor.</p><p>"I'm going to re-alphabetize shit. If you want, you can ask Johnny about Dutch. He'll tell you everything is cool, but I sure as shit don't like the implication that I'd cheat on him, much less be bold enough to do it at work."</p><p>Another long, thoughtful pause.</p><p>"You're really only going to Stanford because I said you should?" Mitch sounded shocked, almost touched, which made a slight dent in how pissed off I was at him. Not big enough.</p><p>"Yeah." I was still deeply fucked off. "So you'll be rid of me soon enough."</p><p>"<em>Dawn</em>." Maybe I'd gone too far with that last snide remark and actually hurt his feelings? He hardly ever used my full name. <em>Shit</em>. Mitch shook his head and waved a hand as if pushing the thought away. "Y'know what? Forget it. Doesn't matter."</p>
<hr/><p>I still hadn't shaken that guilty feeling by the time we closed down for the day. <em>Fuck.</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Dancing On The Jetty</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Sunday 9th June, 1985.</strong>
</p><p>It had been a beautifully sunny afternoon in the valley, which Johnny and I had spent cooped up working together in the store. I looked in the mirror in the work bathroom, and kept tying and untying the bandana around my head. I was aiming for something retro, a little Rosie-the-Riveter vibe to go with my denim overalls and cut off t-shirt. It wasn't working out, I couldn't get the knot on top to sit right.</p><p>Johnny pushed the open door a little wider to get a good look at me. "Ready?"</p><p>"Just a sec." I huffed out a frustrated breath. The more annoyed I got with the headscarf, the worse it looked, but I was committed to this look. It had to work, as though somehow the success of this date was entirely dependent on whether I could get a fucking headscarf to sit right.</p><p>"Here, let me." Johnny had assessed my situation and pinned the little tail of fabric that fell down my forehead so I could bring the other two corners over the top and tie them snugly behind. Johnny pulled the free edge back so I could secure it with a knot and tuck every thing in place.</p><p>"Huh. That's perfect." I said, surprised. Apparently all I'd needed was a third hand. "Thanks."</p><p>We'd finished closing down for the night, and now we were going to the beach to spend the rest of our evening relaxing. Dutch was meeting us there, which had a little twang of anticipation settling in around my solar plexus.</p><p>I'd never really been one for first date nerves, but this was totally uncharted territory. No matter how much I told myself it was just Dutch, who infuriated me and made me laugh in equal measure, I couldn't shake them. I could hardly believe I'd been so playful in the store and then diner the other day, buoyed by the shot of excitement and hope at finally unraveling the clusterfuck my romantic life had become over the last several weeks.</p><p>Of course, that was before Mitch had grilled me about the situation and the weight of his judgment had caught me off guard and thrown me for a loop. I didn't think he'd said anything to Johnny, but I had mentioned it just in case, and in the process of deciding how much Johnny would tell Mitch, we'd also realized how much we were risking.</p><p>It wasn't just our relationship, which was potentially screwed if we didn't try this anyway, but our relationships with our families and loved ones who may not understand. I was immensely grateful that my mom was cool about it, but what if Mitch wasn't? We didn't want to upset Johnny's mom, and I was sure that Dutch's severe, military dad wouldn't take the news well either.</p><p>I shook myself loose to try and get rid of some of the adrenaline I could feel kicking in.</p><p>"Okay. Let's go."</p><p>Johnny must have noticed something was up with me, because he kept shooting me sideways glances as I locked the store and even while he was driving. I tried my best to ignore it and focus on the road ahead, thankful for the sunglasses hiding my eyes.</p><p>"Having second thoughts?" he asked. "If you changed your mind, Dutch will-"</p><p>"No! No. It's not that. I'm not- I want to- shit." I couldn't get my words straight. "I'm just nervous."</p><p>"Oh." Johnny sounded surprised. "Me too."</p><p>"Yeah?" That was a relief.</p><p>"Like, it's just Dutch..."</p><p>"But it's Dutch. It's not someone we don't care about. I don't want to screw this up for you both."</p><p>Johnny kept his eyes on the road. "What if I hate seeing him kiss you? I keep thinking about it, and I think it's cool, but..."</p><p>"You're at a disadvantage. I get it. We don't have to do anything you don't want."</p><p>"Yeah, same."</p><p>"I hope this works out, you know?" I was examining the scuff on the rubber toe of my Chucks.</p><p>"Yeah, I know."</p><p>The car pulled to a stop and I looked up to find we were there. Dutch was waiting, looking out onto the horizon and tapping his foot nervously, near where we'd parked.</p><p>He looked over to where we pulled up and as soon as we made eye contact and he smiled, that anxiety that had been burrowing a hole in my chest lifted. I jumped out of the car, suddenly feeling lighter than I had all day, and came around to Johnny's side while Dutch walked over to us.</p><p></p><div>
  <p>"You wanna-"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Should we-"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Beach?" We all spoke at the same time, and laughed at our mutual eagerness.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>It was getting late, the tide was in, and the beach was quieter than I'd have expected for a balmy summer evening.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny slipped his hand around my waist, pulling me to his side the way he liked to walk with me sometimes, tucked against his body tight with his arm around shoulders. With Johnny close to me and fairly sure we wouldn't be seen by anyone we knew, I felt confident enough to reach out for Dutch's hand.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I didn't know if he'd take it, and that anxiety flooded right back in for half a second as he looked down at me holding my hand out for him. I saw his lips twitch with a smile, then he threaded his fingers through mine and the wave of giddy relief that washed over me could have knocked me on my ass if I hadn't been holding onto Johnny.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>We walked down to the beach like that, only letting go when we reached the bottom of the sand dunes and I needed to unlace my sneakers and remove my socks. Johnny and Dutch did the same.  Barefoot, we made our way to a slightly secluded spot where we'd be mostly sheltered from view of people walking along the beach, and settled in to watch the sun go down.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I sat back in the sand, leaning my weight on my hands behind me, and let out a contented sigh at the cool sea breeze, closing my eyes to savor the sensation.</p>
  <p>Johnny laughed softly and came to sit close enough that his thigh pressed against mine. "Better than last time, huh?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I thought about the last time Johnny and I had been to the beach together, on new years day when we'd ended up fighting. I took a deep breath of the salty air and looked up at the sky.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"No shit." I looked at Dutch, standing a bit further away than I'd like. "Hey, get over here."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He crossed the distance between us, and I couldn't quite figure out the look on his face when he kneeled down in the sand facing me.</p>
</div><p>"What's going on in that head of yours, huh?" I asked. </p><p>"This." Dutch murmured, a moment before he leaned in and brushed his lips against mine. </p><p>I kissed Dutch back earnestly this time, nearly overwhelmed by the bubbly rush of new romance flooding my chest. Johnny's fingers flexed lightly against my knee, bringing my attention back to him, and I pulled back reluctantly to check on him.</p><p>Johnny's eyes were wide when I looked at him, his lips just slightly parted. The hand that had been resting on my knee came up to cup my jaw and pull me into a kiss of his own, agonizingly slow and gentle. </p><p>Eventually he let me go, and I couldn't help but giggle to myself. "I thought this was supposed to be a date, not just the two of you passing me back and forth."</p><p>Dutch grinned at that. "Yeah, Johnny, feeling competitive?"</p><p>"You wanna spar for her?" Johnny laughed, and my jaw dropped at the idea. "I've not trained properly in 6 months, you might actually stand a chance."</p><p>"Yeah, I think I could take you."</p><p>"Bring it, man."</p><p> My jaw dropped at the realization that Johnny and Dutch were about to fight over me, even though I was about 99 percent sure that it was all for fun and showing off.</p><p>They both hopped up, moved several yards away, and dropped into their fighting stances. They were so comfortable with each other like this, I couldn't help but think of all the hours they must have spent sparring before, back when they were at Cobra Kai together. The smirk on Johnny's face betrayed just how much he'd missed karate. Dutch was like a little jumping bean, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he looked for an opening.</p><p>A quick flurry of kicks from Johnny gave him one, and he bounced back in the sand before advancing forward again, heading with a fist straight for Johnny's core, just a blur of movement. Johnny had the reach and control, but Dutch had a speed and viciousness that looked lethal.</p><p>The hit, somehow, connected, and Johnny doubled over in the sand, winded like hell no doubt. Shit. I ditched my sunglasses near my shoes, scrambled to my feet, and ran over.</p><p>Dutch knelt beside him, rubbing his back and reminding him to <em>breathe</em>, just let his lungs fill with air, "Stay down, take it slow."</p><p>"Are you okay?" I asked, worried.</p><p>Johnny nodded, barely perceptibly, and grabbed Dutch around the waist, dragging him down. He rolled over with him until Johnny was on top with Dutch pinned to the ground. The pair of them were grinning and laughing breathlessly from the struggle and a thought crossed my mind and made it out of my mouth before I'd even had time to filter it.</p><p>"Oh, that's hot." I murmured, mostly to myself.</p><p>They both looked back at me, evidently finding that interesting.</p><p>I was almost embarrassed, and would have been if it had been any other situation, with anyone else. Instead, I pushed down that feeling and found the courage to be bold.</p><p>"Kiss him." I told Johnny, and Johnny leaned down to capture Dutch's lips with his own.</p><p>Oh, holy <em>fuck</em>, the rush of directing what Johnny should do was so hot it made my head swim.</p><p>Johnny made a sound, low in his throat, that I'd only ever heard during a really hot and heavy make out session, and I noticed that his hips were pressed tight against Dutch, grinding a little when their kiss deepened. Time felt like it had come to a standstill, stretching on forever.</p><p>It was Dutch that ended the kiss, pushing at Johnny's chest to make him get up. "Someone's gonna see us here." His voice sounded hoarse. </p><p>Johnny nodded, blinking, obviously waiting for his body to catch up with the idea of moving. He rolled away a couple of seconds later. "Yeah."</p><p>"If sparring always ends like that, you're gonna have to teach me karate."</p><p>Dutch laughed and it was delicious. "It doesn't, but I'll make an exception for you."</p><p>"You're not teaching Dawn karate." Johnny said with a certainty that he probably shouldn't have, knowing my stubbornness. "You'll hurt her."</p><p>"What, you're gonna be her sensei now, Johnny?" </p><p>"No. I don't do karate anymore, and she's not learning karate from anyone."</p><p>I felt myself getting annoyed. "Why not, Johnny? It's not like I'll break."</p><p>"You're my girl. No one's hitting you."</p><p>"Come on, Johnny. There's a girl in Locust Valley." It was kinda nice to hear Dutch arguing on my behalf.</p><p>Johnny scoffed, "Yeah, and they did so well in the All Valley with her."</p><p>"Johnny, I don't need to win tournaments. I just want to kick a little ass. Come on. I'd rather have you teach me." I stepped closer to him and nudged him with my foot. </p><p>"Alright, you really wanna learn karate?" </p><p>"Yeah." I grinned down at him, and noticed the glint of mischief in his eyes a split second too late.</p><p>He swept my legs out from underneath me, and I landed hard on my back, all the air forced out of me by the impact. I made a strangled squeak when I hit the ground, but I wasn't hurt. Johnny wouldn't have risked me getting injured and I knew it.</p><p>He was going to make a shitty karate teacher if he wouldn't take that chance, and besides, we only had a few months left in the Valley. I needed him to fast track this shit.</p><p>I pushed myself to my knees and assessed my next move. Dutch was looking at me, smiling, and Johnny was lying back, looking awfully happy and relaxed. Completely unsuspecting that I was about to get him back, big time.</p><p>I crawled into his lap, settling my weight across his groin. Smiling sweetly, I threaded my fingers through his and drew his hands up above his head. </p><p>"Dutch," I used most cloying, sing-song voice, and somehow that was doing it for Johnny because I could feel him getting hard under me. I ground back against him, enjoying the little gasp. "Pin him here."</p><p>Dutch moved above Johnny's head and took his wrists from me. I saw the look on Johnny's face switch up from amusement to panic when i brought my fingernails lightly down the inside of his arms. When I reached his armpits, panic turned to fear</p><p>"No. <em>Nonononono</em>." Johnny pleaded. I'd known he was ticklish before this, but I'd never suspected just how much. I pressed a little harder with my fingers and he shrieked, somewhere between a scream, a laugh, and a sob. </p><p>"Say you'll teach me karate, or I'll tickle you more."</p><p>"I can't believe you- <em>AAAH</em>."</p><p>"<em>Say it.</em>" I commanded. "Say it, and I'll stop."</p><p>"Dutch, come on man, <em>please</em>."</p><p>Dutch chuckled, rubbing a thumb across Johnny's wrist reassuringly. "No mercy, sorry." </p><p>"Fuck. Dawn, please, please don't-" He tensed as I slipped my hands up under his shirt, reaching the layer of muscle around his ribs.  "Don't!"</p><p>"Just say it. Say you're gonna teach me." I lay my hands flat against his abs.</p><p>Johnny breathed deeply, twitching a little under my hands. "Fuck. Okay. Alright, I'll do it."</p><p>"Good boy." I leaned in and littered kisses across his cheek. "You did good. Dutch, let him go."</p><p>Dutch complied, and Johnny brought his hands down to my hips, holding tight.</p><p>"Now, what's the first lesson?" I asked. </p><p>"Strike first." Johnny said, flipping me underneath him.</p><p>"The second?" I tried not to giggle.</p><p>"Strike hard." Johnny buried his face in my neck, and I knew by the way he latched on to me he was going to leave a hickey I wouldn't be able to hide with makeup.</p><p>"Johnny!" I squealed, trying to push him off me.</p><p>Dutch, the bastard, was laughing like this was the funniest thing he'd ever seen.</p><p>Johnny came up for air, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. "And the third is no mercy."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Life's What You Make It</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This is really really short but it's an important scene and I think it deserves its own space.</p><p>It's also tonally a little different from some of the other chapters, I think. Hope you enjoy and it's not too out of place.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Monday 10th June, 1985.</strong>
</p><p></p><div>
  <p>"You don't have to be here for this." I said, voice wavering, heart in my throat.</p>
  <p>I perched on the edge of my bathtub, eyes glued to the veritable science experiment on the counter, watching for any changes.</p>
  <p>Hopefully just a few more minutes until it was ready to read, but the longer we waited, the more insurmountable everything felt. Who knew 30 minutes could feel like a lifetime?</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny sat on the closed toilet lid, leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. "I want to." he said, and I nearly believed him. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>I tapped my foot on the linoleum floor, barely registering the movement of my own body. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Could you stop that, please?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Fuck. Sorry." I stood up and started pacing, more nerves than girl.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny's hand held my wrist, firm but kind, and tugged me to the space between his knees. <em>It's supposed to be comforting, I know. </em></p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I can't believe you made me do this," I sighed, "my period could just be a little late. We've had a lot going on."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You're the one who wanted me to teach you karate, and I'm not doing that until we know."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I hate this waiting. It's probably nothing."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What if it's not?" Johnny spoke carefully, his tone measured.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Then we've ruined both our lives."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Have we?"</p>
  <p>
    <em>Do I want to know what he means by that question? The answer is obvious to me, but is there something I'm missing?</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah. I mean, what are we gonna do? You go to Penn and come back on holidays? Come on, you have a real fucking future. What about Dutch?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"But-"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I looked down at him with pleading eyes. "Please don't, Johnny. Don't try and reassure me. Not until we know."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He sighed and leaned back against the cistern, looking suddenly older than his almost-18 years. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>I chanced a look over at the test, hoping for an answer. It looked like... Maybe?</p>
  <p>This thing was <em>way</em> too complicated. I picked up the leaflet discarded in the sink, checked the part which explained the results. The little tab on the end of the stick that dipped into the vial, it was supposed to to blue for positive, and grey for, o<em>h thank </em><em>God</em>, grey for negative.</p>
  <p>I let out a relieved sigh.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"It's negative."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The look Johnny gave me was impossible to read. Or maybe it wasn't.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What?" I asked.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He looked away.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Come on, Johnny. Tell me, please?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I don't know. It's stupid."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What did I do?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He was too quiet. Of all the possibilities dawning on me, the most likely one was also the one that made me feel impossibly tired. How he must have felt, like Atlas holding up my world. My relief was tinged with sadness, now.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Don't tell me you wanted..."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Johnny looked up at me, and I knew it from his eyes. "I know it's not- I know it's stupid. I just kept thinking about us, together, happy, being a family."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh." I sank to my knees on the floor in front of him and rested my head against the denim of his jeans. "I'm sorry." I said, because I didn't know what else to say. Sometimes what we want what we need aren't the same thing.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"One day, when we've got our shit together, it'll happen." I ran my hand up the length of his shin, an attempt to show him the tenderness that he'd obviously needed and I'd been way too fucking blind to see. "We have so much time for all that."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You're right. I know you're right."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Still sucks, though?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah."</p>
  <p>I could imagine Johnny and I, the picket fence, two children with wild blonde hair and toothy grins. A boy with Johnny's slightly-too-big nose and a girl with my brown eyes. A happy life, wrapped up in each other. A house with two parents where everyone loved each other. The dream. It sounded good.</p>
  <p>But all the optimism in the world can't make things ideal. Sometimes grey is better than blue.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. A Rock and a Hard Place</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This one is very smutty.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Tuesday 11th June, 1985. </b>
</p><p>I hadn't thought Johnny would actually relent enough to teach me anything, but he was a man of his word, and I supposed he'd noticed the same shift in things between us that I had the day before.</p><p>Things felt more solid, somehow, after being honest and vulnerable with each other yesterday, like maybe, just <em>maybe</em> we could keep that future in our sights and everything would be alright. Maybe it would include Dutch, and I certainly hoped so, but I knew Johnny was the one I wanted that life with regardless of anything or anyone else.</p><p>Dutch, Johnny, and I ended up in Johnny's back yard again, under very different circumstances to that fateful night I'd seen them kissing. The sun was shining, and the morning dew that glistened on the grass was just about drying off. It wasn't a dojo, but there was enough space and the grass was soft enough that I probably wouldn't break anything as long as I didn't fuck up terribly. I couldn't afford to fuck up that bad, anyway, I was hugely uninterested in allowing an injury to eat my entire summer.</p><p>Johnny had been the one that decided it would make more sense for Dutch to be here, with him being closer to my height, and so that Johnny could see any mistakes in my form from a distance.</p><p>I'd dug a pair of black track shorts out of the very back of my closet that morning, the red drawstring on them matched almost perfectly to the neck and graphic print on the clingy little black and red ringer tee that went with it. I appraised the vast expanse of bare leg down to my sneakers with satisfaction as I stretched, and knew the boys were looking instead of concentrating on their own stretches. I wanted to learn, at the very least so I could protect myself reasonably well if I got into any trouble at college, but I wasn't passing up any opportunities to be a tease, and having both the boys in close quarters was bound to be all kinds of fun. I was thankful Johnny had a free house this week and we didn't have to worry about anyone seeing us obviously flirting with each other.</p><p>And flirting would be especially easy today, as Dutch had gotten his hair cut, finally rid of that awful bleach blonde and sporting close-cropped naturally black hair instead. It looked good, enhancing the golden tone of his tanned skin. Johnny looked incredible too, the contrast between them even more apparent.</p><p></p><div>
  <p>I laced my fingers through the little padded gloves Johnny handed me, smaller than boxing gloves and really only cushioning the knuckles.</p>
  <p>Dutch grabbed a huge pad and held it tight to his chest, while Johnny explained what he wanted me to do.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Punch like you're not trying to hit Dutch, but some asshole behind him. Don't stop when you make contact, you have to follow through with everything you have."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Got it."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You hit him here," Johnny gestured to the area where Dutch's solar plexus would have been if not for the pad, "you'll wind him, maybe shove him back a bit. Practice that first."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I aimed my fist for the chest area of the pad, and swung. It felt awkward, like I wasn't strong enough. I frowned at myself and breathed out in frustration.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Again." Johnny's command was firm, but gentle.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I threw another punch. Still awkward, but marginally better.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"<em>Again</em>." Johnny sounded mildly disapproving. "Dutch, piss her off. She needs to feel it."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Come on, Princess, I thought you were tough." Dutch drawled, giving me a judging look, laying it on thick. Too thick.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I started laughing. "It doesn't work if I know you're trying to wind me up. And it's really hard to be mad at you when you're shirtless in grey sweatpants. You know they leave <em>nothing</em> to the imagination, don't you?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah, and if you don't hurry up and hit me properly, then I won't fuck you later." He whispered, low and lascivious.</p>
</div><div>
  <p><em>Oh, fuck.</em> I hadn't known that was on the table and now I was blushing, my brain misfiring instead of thinking about landing the next punch. Was I really this easy to ruin?</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hit him." Johnny said.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>All thoughts of teasing went by the wayside, and I let my sexual frustration out the only way I could in that moment, through my fist connecting hard with the pad.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Better. Again."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>I struck, egged on by the tiny crumb of encouragement from Johnny. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>We kept going until my arms felt like they'd fall off. Eventually, Johnny called it, noticing that I was flagging. I'd tried to keep my bitching to a minimum, but there was only so much I could do once the ache set into my shoulders and my hits stopped landing with the same strength. I stretched to cool down, letting Johnny guide me through the movements.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dutch disappeared off into the house, returning with his backpack, full of lukewarm beers. He popped the lid on one and handed it to me when I sat down in the grass. I brought it to my lips, let the room temperature liquid wash over my tongue, and grimaced. It tasted <em>awful</em>. I still drank it, because booze was booze, and I was thirsty after working hard.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Not good?" He asked.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Who doesn't love a warm beer on a sunny day?" I deadpanned. In my humble opinion, beer was only just tolerable at the best of times, when ice cold. <em>This? </em>Wasn't it.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You did okay." Johnny said, and the muted praise almost took the edge off my pain and exhaustion. I few more beers might help, too.</p>
  <p>"No 'for a girl' in there?" </p>
  <p>Dutch laughed. "You're pretty strong, y'know?"</p>
  <p>"I don't feel it after that."</p>
  <p>"Yeah, that happens. Johnny trains people hard. C'mere." he sank down behind me and I wiggled back a little closer.</p>
  <p>His strong fingers dug into my sore shoulders, working the muscles loose with a practiced efficiency, just teetering on uncomfortable before backing off and moving on. I let my head fall forward as he pressed his thumbs into the back of my neck, pressing up towards my skull, then pulling back down. I moaned aloud when he dragged his fingers firmly down the length of my trapezius to rub insistent little circles on my deltoid. I could so happily melt into a puddle right here and never think another conscious thought again.</p>
  <p>"Having fun without me?" I became vaguely aware of Johnny settling in front of me.</p>
  <p>"Mhmm."</p>
  <p>That laugh of his hit me somewhere very pleasant as I felt him move a little closer, until the three of us were neatly stacked together, my head resting on Johnny's shoulder, Dutch now working his way down my back, and Johnny's hands holding my hips, stroking gently at the skin just below the hem of my shirt.</p>
  <p>Somehow, I found words at the edges of my mind. "This is almost worth how much it's gonna hurt tomorrow."</p>
  <p>And it <em>was </em>gonna hurt tomorrow, I knew that much already.</p>
  <p>Johnny pressed a kiss to my temple and the little electric shock from his lips dancing across my skin made me tilt my face towards his. With my eyes closed and my brain barely functional, all I could do was be swept along by wave after wave of sensation. Johnny's nose brushed against mine as he moved in, his tongue coaxed my mouth open, and I lost myself in the feeling of being totally wrapped up in these beautiful boys who happened to want me and each other just as bad as I wanted them.</p>
  <p>I barely registered Dutch letting his hands glide along the outside of my arms, before I felt the gentle nip of his teeth against my neck. I moaned into Johnny's mouth, making him chuckle softly.</p>
  <p>"Hey," he pulled away just far enough to speak and I found myself chasing the kiss involuntarily. "Wanna take this upstairs?"</p>
  <p>A whole world of possibilities opened up to me and flashed through my mind in an instant. I cleared my throat. "Yes. Yeah."</p>
  <p>The three of us, somehow, made it upstairs and onto Johnny's bed, landing hard and quickly ending up in a tangle of limbs. I hadn't expected to be the focus here, but now that it was happening I found myself completely unable to protest, near drowning in the heady decadence of it.</p>
  <p>Johnny's hands were under the waistband of my shorts, pulling them down my legs, and Dutch's hands were pushing my shirt up until the fabric bunched up over my bra while he kissed my neck. Dutch palmed my breast roughly, making me gasp, as Johnny kissed his way up my inner thigh, lifting it over his shoulder as he pressed his face into me through my underwear. </p>
  <p>I let out a high-pitched whine at the pressure, <em>not-enough</em> and <em>too-much</em> all at once.</p>
  <p>Dutch laughed, breath hot against my skin. </p>
  <p>"Fuck off." I somehow found the presence of mind to gasp, before Johnny was mouthing me through the damp cotton again. </p>
  <p>"Oh, really?" Dutch teased, pulling back and taking his hands off me. "You want me to stop? Don't want me here?"</p>
  <p>I gave an annoyed huff then grabbed his wrist hard and put his hand back on my chest. "You're such an ass."</p>
  <p>He started playing with my nipples through the fabric of my bra, having them achingly hard almost immediately as he switched between the two, drawing little keening moans from me until between the two of them, I was bucking my hips against Johnny's face and begging for more, moaning his name desperately.</p>
  <p>Soon after, my panties were gone, and I wiggled myself free enough to discard both my shirt and bra somewhere across the room. I realized we hadn't really discussed the logistics of anything, but that didn't seem to be a big concern as the guys communicated near wordlessly anyway.</p>
  <p>Dutch nudged Johnny out of the way, taking his place at the end of the bed between my thighs and rolling me fully onto my back, burying his face in my soaking wet pussy and moaning into me. </p>
  <p><em>Dear God,</em> that noise was one <em>hell</em> of a power trip. </p>
  <p>Johnny kissed me, long and slow, luxuriously caressing my tongue with his own. I broke the kiss to murmur sweet nothings and found the words stolen as Dutch circled my clit with tongue just so, making me gasp and thrust against his mouth. </p>
  <p>I pulled Johnny further up, until he took the hint and settled on his knees, level with my face. I roughly tugged his shorts and boxers down, freeing his erection close enough that, without preamble, I could take the whole length of him into my mouth. My head bobbed up and down as I sucked greedily on his dick, sloppy and careless as I got closer and closer to orgasm.</p>
  <p>Dutch slid two thick fingers into me at once, crooked them upwards in a come hither motion against my front wall, and I damn near screamed around the cock in my mouth as I started to quiver and clench under his attention. I pushed Johnny back just enough to look down and, <em>oh God</em>, I needed more than this.</p>
  <p>"Dutch, please," I whined, and when he looked up with a gaze so intense it made me dizzy, "fuck me."</p>
  <p>"Condom?" Dutch asked, and I felt Johnny move away, heard him rummaging through the drawer in his bedside cabinet. </p>
  <p>Dutch climbed up my body and kissed me thoroughly, until Johnny passed him the little foil packet and he sat back on his heels, leaving me dazed.</p>
  <p>I looked up at Johnny, who was climbing back onto the bed beside me. I had an idea. "Come here," I mumbled, and willed my legs to work so I could turn over onto my stomach. Johnny sat on the bed in front of me, leaning back against the headboard, looking every inch as beautiful as he always did. </p>
  <p>I squeaked when Dutch smacked my ass playfully, and barely managed to look indignant when he and Johnny shared a laugh at my expense. I knew how to shut Johnny up, at least. I took him in hand and enjoyed his sharp intake of breath as I ran my thumb over the slit, collecting the little bead of precum at the tip and spreading it across his velvety soft skin. He twitched beneath my fingertips, and I was dying to taste him again. </p>
  <p>I licked him slowly, savoring the salty-sweetness, and suckled softly at the tip. I'd been intending to tease, until I felt Dutch line himself up at my entrance and push slowly inside.</p>
  <p>A low, guttural groan escaped my lips at the feeling of being filled slowly while Johnny looked down at me worshiping his cock. His hand threaded through my hair, a little shaky at first, and gently guided my mouth down on him. I hummed in satisfaction when Dutch started to move, the delicious friction moving me back and forth on Johnny.</p>
  <p>I could have stayed like that for hours, getting totally impaled between them, lost to anything but the rapturous sensations and noises echoing between the three of us. But my jaw was starting to ache and I could feel Dutch's movements getting more ragged by the second. </p>
  <p>I hollowed my cheeks and eventually found a pace that had Johnny tense and shaking under me. When he came with a shout, I swallowed him down as much as possible and if the feeling of being fucked through that wasn't as close to heaven on earth as possible, I didn't know what could be. I certainly wasn't getting into the real thing after this.</p>
  <p>I clenched hard around Dutch as my climax began to take hold, and Johnny, <em>sweet, perfect, amazing Johnny, who knew my body so goddamn well,</em> moved so he could reach down and play with my clit. That was all it took to send me screaming into the abyss, shaking and crying out a string of thoughtless profanity.</p>
  <p>My orgasm pushed Dutch over, too, and with us all spent, he collapsed against my back, leaving us a pile of sweaty skin and entwined limbs. I distantly registered Johnny and Dutch exchanging some exhausted kisses, and then Dutch was slipping out of me, smaller and softer and disposing of the condom.</p>
  <p>We eventually made it to cuddling together in the bed, Dutch smoking a cigarette and me occasionally stealing a drag from it while he held it in his fingers. Johnny wasn't much for cigarettes, and grimaced when offered. He was well on track to outlive us all.</p>
  <p>"That was," I sighed, trying to find the words while Johnny traced little patterns on my stomach, "something else, huh?"</p>
  <p>Dutch laughed softly, tiredness seeping in at the edges of his voice. It was probably only around midday, but after morning we'd had, I could forgive it. "Yeah. You can say that again."</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Bad Girl</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Love needs no protection; it is its own protection.<br/>- Emma Goldman.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Friday 14th June, 1985.</strong>
</p><p>Johnny was working all weekend, leaving me at kind of a loose end without much of anything to do in his absence. I probably shouldn't been surprised when he suggested I find out what Dutch was up to and organise a date. <em>Alone</em>. <em>Together</em>. Two rather than three. </p><p>There was some race on that Dutch was gonna go to, and Johnny thought I should ask if I could tag along.</p><p>It made a sort of sense. Johnny and Dutch had obviously spent a lot of time alone together over the years, and Johnny and I had been dating pretty intensely for months. We knew each other pretty damn well, but Dutch was a relatively new entity in my life, and we needed to get to know each other better. I'd barely known that he was into racing, although I really should have expected it from the time he and Johnny spent talking about cars. I still struggled not to zone out sometimes, but I knew that Dutch loved anything with an engine.</p><p>And so I found myself calling him at home, and hoping he'd be the one to answer the phone rather than either of his parents.</p><p>I heard the click of the receiver being picked up.</p><p>"Hi, is John home?" I asked, when I didn't hear a voice.</p><p>"Dawn?" Oh, thank God.</p><p>"Hey, Dutch."</p><p>"What's up?"</p><p>"I wanted to see if you're busy this weekend. Johnny's working."</p><p>"I'm at Riverside all weekend."</p><p>"Oh." I thought I'd get more than that out of him, and couldn't help feeling a little disappointed for a second.</p><p>"Yeah, I'm racing. You wanna come watch? It's the whole weekend, though..." His voice sounded hopeful in a way I really wasn't used to from him, which lifted my mood immediately.</p><p>"I'd like that. You think you could find me some crash space?"</p><p>"I have a hotel room."</p><p>Well, wasn't that a happy coincidence?</p><p>"In that case, I am definitely in." I purred down the phone, just barely suppressing a giggle. "Let me tell Johnny. You need me to bring anything?"</p><p>"Just you." I could almost visualize him shrugging casually.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <strong>Saturday 15th June, 1985.</strong>
</p><p>We dropped into Viper first thing to pick up a couple of my mixtapes from the store. Mitch was in with Johnny, sat behind the counter while Johnny was setting up a display. </p><p>"Hey, Boss." I slipped behind the counter to head into the office for the tapes I wanted. "Just grabbing stuff."</p><p>He followed me back, giving me that look I didn't much like, while Dutch stood around in the store flipping through records.</p><p>"Johnny said you're going to Riverside for the weekend with his friend. Since when do you like cars?"</p><p>"Since I started dating Johnny and I had to hear about them constantly?" I offered. </p><p>Mitch didn't look convinced. "Right. And nothing's going on there?"</p><p>"Please don't do this. It's not what you think."</p><p>"I don't know what else I'm supposed to think. You're better than this, kiddo."</p><p>"I am, which is why you're wrong. But you might not like the truth, either, so..."</p><p>"C'mon, kid. Just tell me." He was looking at me so confused and disappointed, and I hated it. </p><p>I caved. "Okay, fine. I am seeing Dutch. I'm also seeing Johnny. They both know, and they're both more than okay with it."</p><p>"Well, shit." Mitch seemed dumbfounded. </p><p>"Yeah. Said you might not like it."</p><p>"I... Didn't expect that." It was nice that he was trying not to sound judgemental. "So, how's that working out?"</p><p>"Pretty well so far."</p><p>"I mean, logistically, the... No, don't tell me. I really don't want to think about it."</p><p>I laughed despite myself. "Don't worry, I'll spare you the details."</p><p>"Thanks." he said, then more seriously, "You know if this ends badly I'm gonna have to let one of you go."</p><p>I nodded. "We're going to college soon, anyway. It's probably not a big deal."</p><p>I found the mixtapes I wanted in a drawer of the desk. Time to head off.</p><p>"We should go."</p><p>Johnny was finishing ringing up a customer behind the counter and I needed to squeeze past him to get out. I gently touched his waist as I pushed through the gap behind him.</p><p>"I told Mitch about me seeing Dutch. Sorry. He wouldn't stop asking." I hoped that was vague enough to be work-appropriate.</p><p>I felt the tension in his back instantly. The customer took his bag and receipt and walked off, leaving us with a little more space to whisper more detail.</p><p>"It's okay. Can't hide forever, huh?" His smile was terse, and I felt shitty for dumping him in it. Mitch probably wouldn't be too bad, he might not even say anything.</p><p>"I didn't say anything about... y'know. Just me and Dutch and you being cool with it. I didn't know how much was okay to say."</p><p>"May as well tell him it all, right?"</p><p>"I guess. We need to go. I'm sorry." I felt conflicted about leaving. </p><p>"It's cool, I'll deal with it."</p><p>"Thanks." Nothing else I could say seemed sufficient. "I love you. We'll see you Monday."</p><p>Johnny's face softened as he smiled back at me. "I love you too. Now go before you're late." </p>
<hr/><p>The two hour drive to Riverside was gorgeous. Dutch's '83 Mustang convertible was a beautiful machine, the purr of its V8 engine a perfect accompaniment to the music blaring out of the stereo.</p><p>
  <em>Confession time. </em>
</p><p>"I'm glad we ended up here, you know?" I said. </p><p>Dutch had one hand on the steering wheel and the other on my knee. His eyes flicked in my direction for just a second before they were back on the road in front of us. "Yeah?" </p><p>"After prom, I'd been worrying about things. You were so good to me that night."</p><p>Dutch didn't say anything back so I pushed on.</p><p>"Then Rox broke up with you and you kissed me and I was so fuckin' scared that it was gonna mean the end of things for me and Johnny."</p><p>"I didn't mean to-" he sounded like he was gearing up to be defensive or apologetic, and that's not what I wanted, so I cut him off. </p><p>"No, that's not what I mean. Let me finish?" I tried my best to sound reassuring. "When Johnny kissed you it was, like, world-breaking, but I couldn't have imagined this might actually happen before."</p><p>He was quiet, but his hand tightened around my knee.</p><p>"Thanks for letting me come with you this weekend. It means a lot." </p><p>Dutch cleared his throat. "Well, I guess you're kinda my girl, so... I want you with me. Wish Johnny could have come."</p><p>"Kinda?" I looked over at him and saw the small smile pulling at the edge of his lips. Okay, maybe he meant more than <em>kinda</em>. "But yeah, it sucks that he's working."</p><p>"Maybe next time you can put a word in with your boss."</p><p>"Maybe, and I'll probably end up covering.“ I laughed lightly. "But I'm sure you can make it worth my while."</p><p>He groaned and pressed himself back into the headrest, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "Don't make me pull over right here."</p><p>"Oh, right, you're gonna pull over in the middle of nowhere because I'm teasing you?"</p><p>"Maybe." Dutch grinned, and that flash of teeth had my skin feeling flushed and warm immediately. </p><p>"Stop at the next gas station. We need snacks.“ I said, my breathlessness betraying my less innocent intentions.</p><p>"Oh, you're <em>bad</em>."</p><p>"No, this is all you. You've corrupted me." I decided to play it off with a laugh, but I really had no idea what Dutch was doing to me, every interaction feeling like lightning in my veins.</p><p>So maybe I let Dutch screw my brains out in a grimy gas station bathroom, my hands pressed against the cold tile either side of the mirror, the rest of me bent over the sink, and my skirt bunched up around my hips. There were worse places we could have done it, and at least this way we had some privacy. Better than being caught in the back of his car by some cop who suspected something shadier going on. His teeth nipped at my shoulder as his hips drove into me, until we both reached completion, sweaty and breathless and giggling like idiots for a second while we recovered.</p><p>Dutch disposed of the condom, and we put ourselves back together, looking only slightly more dishevelled than when we'd gone in. I couldn't keep the smile off my face.</p><p>A few bags of chips, nuts, some Slim Jims, a couple of packs of smokes, and a variety of sodas from the store later, and we were back on the road. I leaned back in the passenger seat and tried to ignore the slight ache between my thighs. We should have spent more time working up to things, but a quickie in a bathroom didn't really call for it. We were lucky we had condoms, to be honest. </p><p>"So, you nervous?" I asked. </p><p>"Yeah, I guess. I play to win, y'know?"</p><p>"You'll do great. And I'll be there to celebrate."</p><p>"Yeah, you will." </p>
<hr/><p>We arrived a little before ten, and I spent the first day, along with most of the next, trying to keep out of the way of the guys working on the car Dutch was racing. Of course, he did a good portion of the work himself, with a couple of buddies from the car club who didn't really talk to me that much. It was a pretty macho atmosphere, but he thrived on it.</p><p>I suppose I might have felt bored or annoyed if it wasn't so fucking fascinating watching him in his element. It was also reassuring that he was just as tactile with me around these guys as he was everywhere else. Even when he was busy, he'd brush his hand against my waist as he moved past me to grab something, or lean in for a quick kiss if he thought he could get away with it.</p><p>Watching him race was something else. It was way too nerve wracking, trying to keep track of him as the cars passed where I stood in the spectator stands. One of the drivers wiped out on one of the corners and I thanked God that he managed to avoid a pile-up.</p><p>At the end of the day, he qualified for the next, and came bounding up to me in a fantastic mood, helmet under his arm. He must have been sweating his ass off in those leathers, I was barely coping in my halter top and denim mini skirt. </p><p>"We're going for a beer, you in?" he asked. "I can give you the room key if you don't wanna come."</p><p>I grinned back at him, matching his energy. "No, no. I'll come. You did so well, Dutch."</p><p>He grabbed me to him and kissed me hard, in all his pride and adrenaline nearly sweeping me off my feet. I let out a surprised squeak, and he let me go. The smile on his face was absolutely infectious just before he dove in for another kiss.</p><p>I half wished Roxy had seen this side of him, because I didn't doubt for a second under Dutch's intense gaze that he cared about anyone besides me or Johnny. It took my breath away. Her loss was our gain, I guess.</p><p>Everything was more intense, more fun with Dutch around. I'd initially feared that my relationship with Johnny would deteriorate, that somehow adding another person would be a distraction, but in reality, the opposite had happened. We'd already been distracted by the fact that I, at least, and possibly Johnny too, had been falling in love with Dutch, slowly and bit by bit. </p><p>Now, we'd broken the back of that tension and our whole relationship was better. We all met each others wants and needs in a way that felt extremely natural, and if we could keep even a fraction of this energy for each other while we were at college, maybe we'd get by. </p><p>It was perhaps a little foolish to hope for so much, and maybe I was over-simplifying the potential for this to get really, really complicated if things went south, but if you can't believe that love will conquer all when you're seventeen and your whole world is two beautiful boys who act like you're a blessing from on high, when can you? </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry for this chapter taking so long. I've been working on other fic, and to be honest the research portion of this one was kind of an ordeal. I hope you can forgive or gloss over any horrid inaccuracies, and excuse my vagueness in other parts.</p><p>Let me know if you enjoyed it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Sooner Than You Think</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Sunday 23rd June, 1985.</strong>
</p><p>It was still a bit weird to think that 6 months ago, I'd been reluctant and terrified about falling in love with Johnny, and yet here I was, very much sandwiched between him and his best friend, who was now our boyfriend. We really only said the words in these quiet moments, the three of us curled up together in the privacy of Johnny's bedroom. Sometimes we'd hang out at my place, cuddling on the sofa, where we were grateful that at least we didn't have to hide anything from my mom.</p><p>Johnny's head was settled in the curve of my shoulder, his fingers tracing delicate patterns over my bare thigh just below my shorts. My head rested in Dutch's lap as he played with my hair, softly massaging my scalp. I floated on a wave of peaceful bliss, enjoying every second we got to spend in our little bubble, where the outside world didn't matter at all.</p><p>Bobby was hosting a small party later, and I really was not looking forward to pretending like the three of us weren't totally smitten. I just knew Bobby was going to pick up on the change in things between the three of us, and I thought it was hardly worth the effort even trying. As always, Johnny insisted, and once it became apparent that he was really digging his heels in, Dutch gave in. </p><p>I just didn't see it ending well.</p><hr/><p>Immediately, my suspicion that Johnny wasn't as slick as he thought was confirmed, because Bobby shot me a knowing look as soon as we walked in together. I made an attempt to look casual, probably failed. </p><p>Bobby, Tommy, and Jimmy were sitting around the fire pit again, drinking beers and chatting. Dutch went to sit between Tommy and Jimmy, throwing himself in the middle of their conversation already. I sat the other side of Jimmy, while Johnny grabbed the three of us drinks.</p><p>I tried to listen and figure out the conversation I'd now walked into the middle of. Bobby and Tommy were unattached, and Tommy kept trying to persuade Bobby to come with him to a bar in the hopes of meeting girls. Dutch had become quickly pulled into this, and was providing some basic resistance to the idea. Bobby seemed even less enthusiastic about the idea than Dutch did. Bobby was a sweet guy, but not exactly one to chase girls for the sake of it.</p><p>Jennifer and Jimmy were still together apparently, and his smile when he talked about her was adorable. "I think I'm gonna ask her to marry me over Christmas break." he said, and despite the shocked looks the boys gave him, they seemed happy for him, a chorus of wows and murmured congratulations.</p><p>"She hasn't said yes yet, I haven't even asked." Jimmy protested.</p><p>"You're gonna, though. She can't say no to that face." Dutch teased, laughing in that way he that made my heart warm.</p><p>Johnny was coming over with the beers, passing them out then folding himself down next to me, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me closer. "Hey, babe," he said, and planted a kiss in his hair. "what'd I miss?"</p><p>"Jimmy's gonna ask Jen to marry him over Christmas break."</p><p>Johnny looked impressed, and squeezed me a little tighter. "Nice."</p><p>"When are you gonna make an honest woman outta Dawn, Johnny?" Tommy asked, grinning.</p><p>I could feel Johnny tense beside me. "I'm already an honest woman, Tommy. Johnny's the bad influence here." I laughed, resting my head on his shoulder.</p><p>Tommy took Johnny's silence as an answer in itself. "So not popping the question yet, man?"</p><p>"Nah, Dawn doesn't believe in marriage."</p><p>"It's fine if you're into it," I quickly interjected, not wanting to offend Jimmy. "It's just not me. Anyway you'd think a guy would be grateful I'm not trying to rush him into it."</p><p>"Cool as a cucumber, as ever," Jimmy chuckled softly. "Maybe <em>a guy</em> just wants to lock it all down before anything happens."</p><p>"I dunno, maybe I'm weird, I just don't feel like making myself legally beholden to someone is gonna help me love or respect them more." <em>Okay, too serious, lighten the mood.</em> "Besides, if Johnny thought he could get me down the aisle without a struggle he'd be bored of me within the week." </p><p>Johnny laughed at that, putting the conversation back on track. Tommy started pestering Dutch more about going out with him the next weekend since Bobby was just so reluctant.</p><p>"Nah, I'm good. I'm seeing someone." Dutch brushed it off with a smirk. </p><p>"A buncha someones, I bet." Tommy quipped, a reference to Dutch's usual between-relationships promiscuity. </p><p>"Something like that." Dutch grinned, looking right at Johnny and me.</p><p>I nearly spat out my drink. Johnny was playing it cool, but Bobby was looking between the three of us, frowning. I could see the cogs turning in his head. He was neither blind nor stupid and I instantly regretted coming along because <em>of course</em> Dutch couldn't resist being a massive tease all night. It came to him as naturally as breathing. </p><p>Johnny drained the last of his beer, looking around at all the empty cans. "I'm gonna get another. Anyone else for a cold one?" </p><p>"Yeah, thanks." Tommy and Jimmy said pretty much in unison. </p><p>Dutch stood up. "I'll give you a hand. Bobby? Dawn?" </p><p>I knocked back the last of mine and nodded. Bobby was still lost in his thoughts when Dutch shrugged and walked off after Johnny, muttering "Suit yourself." under his breath. </p><p>Tommy and Jimmy were chatting about something else already, but I could see Bobby's mind working, clear as day. When the penny dropped, he looked into my eyes for a second, then away. </p><p>"I forgot something in the... I'll be back." he said, then followed in the direction Johnny and Dutch had gone.</p><p>I let a few seconds pass before I got up and went after him. </p><p>"What. The. <em>Hell</em>." I heard Bobby mutter just as I caught up behind him.</p><p>Over his shoulder I saw that he'd caught Dutch and Johnny making out in the kitchen - Johnny had Dutch pressed up against the kitchen counter and had sucked a fairly significant hickey into the spot below his shirt collar, which was currently unbuttoned enough to give him access.</p><p>"You guys are screwing around again, and on Dawn this time? Like <em>whatever</em>, when you're both <em>single</em>, but she doesn't deserve this."</p><p>I realised Bobby didn't know I was behind him. "Doesn't deserve what?"</p><p>He turned to face me, and looked almost pitying before he saw the smile on my face. Then the pity turned back into confusion. "Dawn?" </p><p>"Bobby, it's fine. You don't need to be morally outraged on my behalf... We're together."</p><p>"You <em>what</em>?"</p><p>"You remember the party before graduation? When you tried to warn me about Johnny and Dutch having a thing for each other?"</p><p>"So, what? You're cool with this? They're- and you're?" He sounded like I'd blown his mind. Full unable-to-compute, opening his mouth and closing it again like a goldfish while he looked for words.</p><p>I nodded, squeezing past him and into the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge and stand by Dutch and Johnny, who separated slightly to give me some room between them. "It's a bit unconventional, sure. But we're happy, and if you could find it in your heart to be happy for us, I'd appreciate it." </p><p>I didn't know where I'd found my coolness from about explaining this to Bobby. Maybe because I knew neither Dutch or Johnny would be able to, and I'd already had a practice run with Mitch.</p><p>Bobby still stood there, shaking his head and blinking. "The fuck?"</p><p>"You don't have to be okay with it." Johnny said, his voice almost challenging in spite of the fact he looked like he wanted the earth to swallow him whole.</p><p>I suppose this happening twice was a bit ridiculous. These two needed to take fewer risks, but who could resist with Dutch? </p><p>Bobby sighed and rubbed a hand across his face. "I don't know, man, this is a lot."</p><p>"Screw this." Dutch pushed himself away from the counter, towards Bobby, body language giving off waves of confrontational energy. "I'm done lying. I love her. And him. And if you wanna have a problem with that, I'll be happy to beat it out of you."</p><p>Johnny caught him by the arm and pulled him back. "Leave it, Dutch." </p><p>He turned to give Johnny a hard look, then wrenched his arm free. "Whatever. I'll be outside."</p><p>Bobby stepped back to let Dutch pass when he stormed out of the kitchen. </p><p>I didn't recall Dutch ever telling me he loved me or Johnny before. I leaned back against the counter as my head swam at the revelation. It shouldn't have been surprising, and yet... </p><p>"I should go after him." Johnny said, squeezing my hand briefly before he stepped past me and out into the yard.</p><p>I stood there for a long moment, just letting the reality sink in. Logically, I'd known for a while that our feelings were mutual, but the fact that they were strong enough for him to blow up at Bobby like that at a party over us? <em>Wow. </em></p><p>Bobby came to stand next to me, looking every bit as astonished as I was. "So it's serious?"</p><p>"I think so, yeah."</p><p>"And they're happy?"</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"Okay. I can deal with that."</p><p>I blew out a breath. "Good. Your approval means a lot to them, you know?"</p><p>"I have no idea why." </p><p>"Don't be like that, Bobby. You're the kind one, even if they give you shit for having a stick up your ass sometimes. You're a good listener and a good friend. <em>Especially</em> when you get the stick out your ass."</p><p>Bobby chuckled. "I guess I owe them an apology, huh?" </p><p>"Yeah. Let Dutch cool off first, though. Johnny will talk him down. Suppose I should see how they're doing."</p><p>I walked outside into the balmy summer air and looked around. I couldn't see them with Jimmy and Tommy, so they must have gone off by themselves to talk. I circled back around the house to find Johnny and Dutch, eventually discovering them sitting on the hood of Johnny's car, facing away from me. </p><p>"-he'll come around." Johnny was trying to reassure Dutch. </p><p>"Whatever. Doesn't matter." Dutch was obviously trying to sound dismissive, but it was just as clear that he was still full of pent-up anger.</p><p>As I got closer I noticed Johnny move to take Dutch's hand in his own. It was a really sweet moment, one I didn't want to intrude on, so I hung back a little and tried not to feel too voyeuristic.</p><p>"I... I love you too." Johnny said, knowing that's what Dutch would need to hear to drag him away from the doubts that would be eating him. "Even if he doesn't come around, it doesn't matter."</p><p>Dutch turned to Johnny and I caught the look in his eyes even from a distance. He looked so fucking happy. The two of them just made my heart soar.</p><p>I grinned to myself, savoring the moment <em>just</em> before he spotted me in his peripheral vision.</p><p>"Hey, Dawn."</p><p>Johnny's head turned towards me, too. I walked closer, slightly embarrassed to have been caught eavesdropping, until I'd made it around the car to join them.</p><p>“I can't believe you said you love us to Bobby and threatened to kick his ass if he didn't get over it." I was trying not to giggle, biting my lip with the effort to restrain myself. </p><p>"Yeah, well. I have my moments." Dutch laughed in return. </p><p>"I don't wanna steal Johnny's thunder here, but... I love you too. Both of you."</p><p>Johnny just smiled and pulled me into his embrace, leaving enough space for Dutch to come around the other side of me and sandwich my body between theirs. They let me go after what had felt like simultaneously like forever and not long enough. </p><p>"We should go back to the party." I sighed.</p><p>"I guess. Though I kinda wanna take you two home now." I loved how relaxed Johnny sounded, his voice pitched a little lower with a hint of desire too.</p><p>Dutch didn't need much persuading. "Maybe we can skip out early?"</p><p>"Maybe, but we only just got here. Come on." </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. I Before E Except After C</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Johnny and Dutch deal with some things from the past. The other Cobras make a discovery.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Thursday 4th July, 1985.</strong>
</p><p>Johnny's mom and stepdad were away for the whole week - I think they'd gone to the Bahamas, as if California wasn't hot and sunny enough right now. Johnny sat back in the grass, licking lazily at the remainder of his ice cream while Dutch held pads for me to kick. We'd been making progress, and my speed, power, and flexibility had improved drastically.</p><p>I wasn't going to be winning any championships, but I was at least more confident that I'd be able to protect myself a little if I ever needed to. As a bonus, the conditioning training I'd been doing had improved my stamina and developed a sturdy layer of muscle under the parts of my body where I'd been slimmer and softer before. I wasn't ever likely to be built like a tank, but I liked that my physique was becoming more robust.</p><p>"Enjoying the view?" I asked, knowing he'd be examining my form instead of eyeing me up, which was a little bit disappointing.</p><p>"Not bad." </p><p>I could hear the humor in his voice, but I still kinda wanted to kick him in the shin for the nonchalant response. As if me being sweaty and exhausted wasn't <em>completely</em> his thing.</p><p>"-but I know your leg can go higher than that."</p><p>I let out a breathless giggle, retorting, "Only when you make it, Sensei."</p><p>Johnny groaned, low and throaty and yeah, <em>mission accomplished</em> because I could hear him moving towards us. </p><p>Dutch dropped the pads, shaking his head at us. "If you two don't stop flirting she's never gonna learn anything." </p><p>I turned to face Johnny. "You got another lesson for me?"</p><p>He was smirking and I knew the other shoe was about to drop, just wondering what it would be, when Dutch slid his strong, tan forearm around my neck, pulling me against him.</p><p>"Don't let your guard down seems like a good one." Johnny grinned. </p><p>I rolled my eyes and wiggled, testing his grip. His arm squeezed tighter as I struggled, not enough to be dangerous, but enough that I knew I'd have to figure it out and move quickly, no hesitation. I went to make another attempt to free myself and it didn't work.</p><p>When Dutch pulled me back tighter I made a little choking sound, one I hadn't really been conscious of, and once he had me in my starting place he gave me a little more air so that I could plot my next move. In that half second I was thinking, something must have happened because Dutch asked Johnny, voice brimming with concern, if he was okay.</p><p>I looked up to where Johnny was staring at us. No, not at, through. His face was almost blank, but I could see the tension in his jaw that usually accompanied panic or blind rage.</p><p>"Shit." Dutch said, and practically dropped me like I was hot.</p><p>"Johnny?"</p><p>He wasn't listening at all. </p><p>I observed his clenched fists, the set of his shoulders. Panic was starting to rise in my chest as I realized I had absolutely no idea what to do.</p><p>Dutch had stepped back again, very clearly on the verge of his own meltdown and fighting hard to keep his voice neutral. "Look, man, I'm sorry, I didn't, I<em> wouldn't</em> hurt her."</p><p>Some things clicked into place for me. I stepped a little closer, not quite into Johnny's personal space but enough that it would be easier to catch his eye, and I made sure my voice was low and soft. "Johnny, I'm okay. You're okay. Everything is fine." I paused for a second. "Can I hug you?“</p><p>It took a minute or so, but his eyes landed on me and he nodded, just barely. I pressed my body up against his, tucking my head sideways against his chest, and wrapped my arms around him. Slowly, he pulled me into him a little tighter, and while I rubbed reassuring circles into taut muscle of his back, I felt his breathing relax.</p><p>We parted after a while, and I could tell Johnny still wasn't really himself just yet, but he was way more with it than he had been.</p><p>One deep sigh, and he finally spoke. "I need a drink." </p><p>He wandered off into the house, leaving Dutch and I alone. Speaking of, Dutch looked all kinds of gutted as he watched Johnny walk away.</p><p>I felt torn - unsure if I should go after Johnny, or whether to stay here. Johnny was seemingly no longer in immediate crisis mode, and had gone to grab another drink, presumably as an excuse to have a moment alone and put himself back together. Dutch obviously had some shit he needed to talk out, and I was already here. Decision made, I guess.</p><p>"Hey, that wasn't your fault."</p><p>Dutch shook his head and rubbed his face with his hands. "I... I don't know how much Johnny told you about what happened after the All-Valley, when Kreese... Fuck. You're gonna hate me. It's a miracle Johnny doesn't."</p><p>"Hey, whatever it is, it can't be that bad."</p><p>"You don't understand. When Kreese, when Kreese started choking Johnny out I walked away. I was the other side of the car, and instead of doing the right thing, like Tommy and Bobby, I walked away."</p><p>"Dutch, that guy sounds fucking terrifying. I don't blame you, it must have been hard standing up to him."</p><p>"But I didn't even <em>try. </em>Fuck, I was such a fucking prick then. So fucking angry all the damn time, and I'd just got myself disqualified from the tournament to go after LaRusso. Kreese didn't even have to tell me to do that, y'know? I just fucking did it. I wanted to fucking hurt him after how he'd fucked with Johnny."</p><p>"Okay, so it's not your finest moment, sure. But Johnny forgave you for not standing up to Kreese, and he doesn't forgive easy. Besides, I've no right to judge you, knowing what Kreese was capable of."</p><p>"I don't deserve this."</p><p>"You deserve to be kinder to yourself." I took a steadying breath and rubbed the outside of his arm with the palm of my hand, cupping the muscle with my fingers. "I think we should go check on Johnny, come on."</p><p>Johnny was inside, making headway on the cheap bourbon we'd bought for later, and looking lighter already.</p><p>I slipped the bottle out of his hand, a gentle smile on my lips as he gave me a half-heartedly annoyed glare. "Easy there, Blondie." I loved using that nickname when I was teasing him, but it'd fallen by the wayside when things had gotten serious between us. Still, it felt like a nice call-back to the days when we'd been awkwardly trying to navigate our feelings. "Sharing is caring, don't you know?"</p><p>"Hmm." Johnny hummed disapprovingly, reaching for the bottle, but I spun out of his reach and took a swig myself. The burn down my throat was hideous, but I resisted the urge to cough.</p><p>I passed the bourbon to Dutch and danced back over to Johnny, curling myself around his body and purring like a kitten when he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and looked down at me with those deep blue eyes full of incomprehensible wonder. "You good?" I asked, knowing there was a fair chance he was coming back to his regular self.</p><p>"Getting there."</p><p>Dutch slid the bottle down the counter, and I stuck my hand out to intercept it.</p><p>"Get there quicker if you'd give that back." Johnny said indignantly.</p><p>I laughed, unable to contain it. "You can't get too drunk yet."</p><p>Johnny gave me a look that clearly meant <em>'and-why-the-fuck-not?'</em></p><p>"We have company coming over, later. And besides, Dutch seems to be under the impression that what just happened was his fault."</p><p>Johnny scoffed. "Nah, it wasn't. But can we not talk about this?"</p><p>Too much dwelling on it was going to make him squirm, so I opted for a better idea. "Sure. But you two are gonna kiss and make up now."</p><p>"We're not fighting." Johnny was smirking down at me, though, so he must have liked where I was going.</p><p>"Doesn't matter. Humor me."</p><p>Dutch had been silent throughout, and when I looked at him over my shoulder, I noticed he was eyeing the pair of us curiously.</p><p>I held out my hand behind me, gratitude washing over me as he took it and let me pull him in. It was really fucking nice, the three of us together like this, in an empty house before throwing a party of our own. The tension of before hadn't really dissipated, just shifted into something else, something more playful, and I was totally lapping it up.</p><p>I stepped back from Johnny slightly, allowing Dutch in a little closer. My breath caught in my throat when Johnny bent his head, Dutch reached up, and their lips met somewhere in the middle. Johnny must have heard my slight gasp, because when he opened his mouth and they deepened the kiss, he really put on a show of how into it he was, pressing his chest into Dutch's, their bodies flush together. Dutch gave a little moan, bordering on desperate, and rolled his hips against Johnny for much-needed friction.</p><p>There was no way to keep the grin or the blush off my face. We didn't have time to spend fooling around, as much as we'd all have liked to. Bobby, Tommy, Jimmy, and Jennifer were due in a couple of hours, and the barbecue wasn't even set up outside yet. They were so hot I was having a hard time caring about that, however.</p><p>I reluctantly pulled myself away the sight of from my boyfriends making out and over to the fridge to grab some ingredients. I wouldn't be able to top Johnny's mom's potato salad, but I was willing to give it a damn good go.</p><hr/><p>Jennifer and Jimmy were the first to arrive, followed soon by Tommy with a box full of fireworks under his arm, like that could possibly end well. Jen had made brownies, which definitely guaranteed a good evening for those of us partaking.</p><p>By that point, Dutch was out on the patio, looking satisfied by the fairly impressive fire he'd started in the charcoal. An hour or two and it would die down, and we'd be able to start cooking over the coals. Hopefully Bobby wouldn't be much longer. He was supposed to be bringing more beer and I wasn't sure the supplies we had would last given the big dent we'd already made in them. Maybe that wasn't the worst idea, but we had an empty house and a lot of food, and it just seemed like evening was heading in the perfect direction.</p><p>Johnny was happier, as well. He'd slowed down drinking after getting hot and heavy with Dutch for a while, trying their best to distract me from cooking. Later he'd grabbed a brownie, and now he was sprawled out on the lawn, eyes closed and basking in the late afternoon sun like a cat.</p><p>I was relieved to see him so relaxed.</p><p>I nudged his side with my foot. He blinked up at me, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand, and the dopey grin that spread across his face was completely endearing. I swung one leg over him. and kneeled over his waist, leaning back a little when he brought his knees up behind me for support. He threaded his fingers through mine, til we were palm-to-palm, touching each other as much as possible while also being fairly appropriate in company.</p><p>"I'm so fucking high right now." Johnny smiled up at me.</p><p>"You look it." I laughed.</p><p>"Hungry, too."</p><p>"That'll be the weed. I don't think the burgers are ready yet. Lemme ask Dutch." I turned slightly on Johnny's lap, shifting my weight to one knee while I looked to the side where Dutch was standing by the grill. I raised my voice a bit as I called out "Dutch?"</p><p>"Yes, ma'am?" He replied, grinning. I knew he was making fun, but it still lit a little fire inside me, one stoked by the backs of Johnny's fingers kneading my thigh as if he knew.</p><p>Tommy seemed to find it funny, too, as he stood nearby. They'd been chatting between themselves about something or other, which was a little worrying, setting my inner chaos detector on high alert.</p><p>"What's happening with the food?"</p><p>"Nearly ready to throw some on the grill. We hungry?"</p><p>Jimmy and Jen murmured approvingly, and Dutch disappeared off into the house with Tommy to grab the food.</p><p>I turned my attention back to happy, sweet and giggly Johnny, who was sliding his hands up inside the legs of my shorts to cup my ass. "Behave." I warned, if only because Jimmy and Jen could probably see everything and I didn't want them to tell us to get a room <em>again</em>.</p><p>I was at least partially saved by the guys coming back outside, Bobby in tow, who was nibbling at a brownie of his own.</p><p>"Hey, Bobby." I detached one of my hands from Johnny's to wave. "Nice of you to finally join us."</p><p>"Hi, Dawn. Hey guys," he said to everyone else. "my dad needed a hand with something. Sorry." </p><p>"It's cool." I replied. </p><p>"Need any help there, Dutch?" </p><p>"No thanks." Dutch sounded a little short with Bobby, residual annoyance about how he'd handled the other night. </p><p>Tommy was frowning as he looked at the two of them. "What's going on?"</p><p>I braced myself for things to escalate. Johnny seemed to be doing the same, so I slid off his lap and we both stood up to wander in their direction. </p><p>"Nothing." Dutch snapped.</p><p>"Don't bullshit me, man." </p><p>"Back off, Tommy."</p><p>"Shit, this is really harshing my buzz. We going to do this now?" asked Johnny. </p><p>"Do what?" Jimmy jumped in.</p><p>"It's nothing, really. I pissed Dutch off the other night and I owe him an apology, that's all." Bobby insisted. "I'm sorry for reacting like that. If you're happy, I think it's great."</p><p>"Is someone gonna tell me what's goin' on?" Tommy was sounding more irate at being left out of the loop. </p><p>I looked at Johnny. Johnny looked at me. </p><p>"We've got to tell them, don't we?" I asked.</p><p>Dutch was very much not looking anywhere but the grill. He sighed. "Yeah."</p><p>Johnny took the lead, this time. "Dutch, Dawn and me. We're dating."</p><p>Tommy laughed. "Yeah, right. Now pull the other one." </p><p>Nobody else was laughing, and Tommy stopped.</p><p>Dutch shoved the spatula, hard, into Bobby's chest. "Watch the grill. I need a drink." he stormed off in the direction of the kitchen, presumably after the bourbon we'd taken from Johnny earlier.</p><p>"You weren't kidding." Jennifer said cautiously.</p><p>"No." I confirmed. "Not kidding." </p><p>"I guess it makes sense." Jimmy spoke up, sipping his beer while he seemed to think. "Dutch has been flirting with Dawn since before he got back with Roxy last time. That whole asshole act is practically foreplay for him. And it wouldn't be the first time Johnny and Dutch... Well, y'know."</p><p>Johnny looked like he was a bit embarrassed by Jimmy just putting it all out there like that, but he didn't argue.</p><p>I sighed. "I'm gonna go after him. We all cool here?" </p><p>Tommy was frowning a bit, but he shrugged. "Guess so." </p><p>Johnny nodded. "Go on."</p><p>I jogged across the patio and stepped into the kitchen to see Dutch doing pretty much what we'd discovered Johnny doing earlier - knocking back shot after shot of cheap bourbon and looking pensive. </p><p>"For what it's worth, I don't think they really care that much."</p><p>Dutch huffed out a laugh. "Anyone else and I wouldn't really care what they thought, anyway." </p><p>"But it isn't anyone else, it's us."</p><p>"Yeah, it is."</p><p>I leaned back against the counter beside Dutch. "You gonna pour me one?" </p><p>I watched his hand wrap around the neck of the bottle and tip it to dribble some into the glass. I reached for the glass and knocked it back quick, swallowing the burning sensation and letting it hit my stomach like a brick.</p><p>"Bobby's probably burning those burgers, you know?"</p><p>"You ready to head back out?" I asked.</p><p>Dutch took a deep breath. "Yeah."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>We're running up on the end of things here, just a few more chapters to go. As always, please tell me what you enjoyed. If you didn't, well... Maybe you might just prefer another story at this point. 😅</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0032"><h2>32. What You Give Is What You Get</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The aftermath of July 4th. Dawn, Johnny, and Dutch do some planning for the future, among other things. Dawn and Dutch talk relationships.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey, so... I left this a while because I just didn't have the motivation or will to finish it. But I'm done with my other long fic for now, and before I start on the sequel, I decided to come back and follow through, because these three human disasters deserve their happy ending.  IF you see any inconsistencies here because of the massive gap in writing and me keeping shitty notes for this fic? I'm sorry. Pretend they don't exist. I really pulled this fic out of thin air and enthusiasm, and it occasionally shows.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Friday July 5th, 1985.</b>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The three of us woke late that morning, having been up well into the night with the guys and Jenny. Dutch and Tommy had set the fireworks off, and somehow we’d all made it through the evening without anyone setting themselves on fire or exploding anything they shouldn’t have.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We sat in bed, the comforter covering our legs, while we ate breakfast. Toast with butter and grape jelly. Actual heaven. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I sighed, swiping toast crumbs away from the corner of my mouth with my thumb. “So, everybody knows, apart from your parents. We're not telling them, though, right? It's way too complicated right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dutch nodded, “Not that I </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanna</span>
  </em>
  <span> hide this from anyone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But yeah,” Johnny finished. “maybe one day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I sat there, thought of a world where I could have this without it being some big thing I had to explain, my heart doing stupid little backflips at the idea. I didn't know if or when that would ever happen, but in the meantime, this is what we had. Our friends knew, my mom knew. We didn't have to hide it all from everyone now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I'd love to tell the rest of the world, more than anything, but we were going to college soon, at different campuses, and this was going to be hard enough as it was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I squeezed out from my space in the bed between them, stacking my plate on top of Johnny’s as I went, and headed for Johnny's desk. I knew there were pens and a notepad in a drawer there, and managed to locate what I wanted fairly easy. The little book fit comfortably in the palm of my left hand, as I pulled the lid free of the pen, and started to scribble, just enough to check the ink would flow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I turned to see them looking at me with confusion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have to come up with some kind of schedule.” I explained. “There's too much to figure out unless we plan it now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, holidays we all come home? Or go away together?” Dutch looked at me, hope in his dark eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Johnny said, “I can fly back once a month, maybe twice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if we do one weekend here, and one weekend in Stanford? Dutch, are you up for driving up to see us?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I jotted the rough plans so far down. “Okay, so that's two weekends a month accounted for. And we’ll call each other, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t bear the idea of not speaking to them every day, but that was gonna be impractical. Especially if we were three-way calling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How often?” Dutch asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Twice a week? I mean, that will still suck, but…” I trailed off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Johnny’s tone demanded my attention, but he softened when our eyes met. “it’s okay. We’ll manage. And if you need more, we’ll do more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” I said softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come here,” Dutch murmured, patting the space between them. The gap left for </span>
  <em>
    <span>me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>I wondered if this was ever going to get less dizzyingly wonderful.</span>
  <em>
    <span> I hope the fuck not.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>I crawled into bed, and the three of us wiggled around, until I was well sandwiched between them. Dutch took my mouth, kissing me soft and slow, while Johnny found his way to the special place where my neck meets my shoulder. I shuddered under the attention, melting between them, as hands roamed and I started to lose track of who was touching who, where. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I felt like just about the luckiest person in the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Evidently, Johnny was thinking something similar as he groaned, “Can’t believe how good you feel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wasn’t sure which of us he was talking to, or both. I also figured it really didn’t matter, cos his hand was stroking Dutch’s thigh as it lay over mine, and his mouth was still doing incredible work back there on the side of my neck. His teeth dragged across my skin, perfectly, and I shuddered, moaning into Dutch as he kissed me, my body practically vibrating with need. If we went any further right now, I’d be done in seconds, and I just wasn’t ready for it all to be over yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was all just too much. I knew I had to call it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can we,” I gasped when Johnny nipped at my earlobe, “can we try something else?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like what?” Dutch asked, staring at my mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I watch you guys for a while? I’m just way too keyed up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I felt, as much as heard, Johnny's gentle laugh. His breath ghosted over my ear. “What d'you think, man?” he asked, leaning away, presumably to see Dutch over me. “You wanna put on a show?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, yes.” Dutch replied, eyes on the blond behind me.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh God, oh fuck, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I couldn't believe this was actually about to happen. And then Johnny climbed across me, and I shifted across the bed to give them space, and my brain had to get on board. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Johnny settled in the space between Dutch’s thighs, so much skin against skin, the perfect, gorgeous contrast between them never more apparent than when they were tangled together, limbs entwined. As he leaned down to kiss him, my breath caught in my throat. Their lips met in the gentlest of touches, one delicate flutter of barely more than shared breath, then another, more forceful, more passionate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Johnny was kissing lower, down Dutch's neck, across his chest, sliding down his body. The response that was getting was every bit as appealing as watching the act, as Dutch shuddered and arched his back every time Johnny found some secret place that set his nerves on fire. Johnny's mouth followed the trail of dark hair down, right down to the waistband of his underwear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>An involuntary roll of Dutch's hips had Johnny chuckling, a perfect, soft sound that held all the heat and desire I could feel radiating off them in waves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holy fuck,” I murmured, awestruck, “You have no fucking idea how hot you both look right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Johnny looked at me, and the intensity of gaze was enough to break any resolve I had with regards to waiting. I moved, leaned down so I could kiss Johnny. A little rearranging and I could meet him where he was, half hanging off the bottom of the bed with his torso nestled between Dutch's legs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sight of me and Johnny kissing seemed to be doing things for Dutch too, so at least that was mutual. His hand threaded into my hair as my tongue circled slowly, teasingly, with Johnny’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You two just gonna keep me waiting all day?” He asked, a hint of amusement in his voice despite the desperate edge to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I looked at Johnny and smiled, and was met with one that was equally dangerous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe,” Johnny said. “Depends what you’re going to do about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dutch’s incredulous laugh filled the room. “Oh, you’re going </span>
  <em>
    <span>down,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Johnny.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, I hope so.” I grinned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t mean it like that, but now you suggest it…” Lust shone in Dutch’s eyes, and Johnny matched it as he looked up at him. “That’s not the worst idea we’ve ever had.”</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Things had gone, well, just about as expected, and the three of us had ended the afternoon extremely fucking satisfied. But all good things must come to an end, and I had shit to do at home. Work to get back to the next day, too. </span>
  <span>Dutch was driving me back to my mom’s apartment on his own way home when I finally worked up the courage to ask something that had been playing on my mind for the last little while. I looked over at his happy, relaxed expression, and almost chickened out. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> didn’t want to be the cause for any stress for him. Any more than usual, anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But, this was important. I needed closure, and I think, so did he.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanna invite Roxy to my birthday party,” I said, apprehensively. “She’s been a good friend, and… I don’t know. It feels wrong not to ask.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dutch gave me an unfathomable look. “If you want. It’s your birthday.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s your ex. It’s not weird?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His tight smile made my heart hurt. “I’m with </span>
  <em>
    <span>you,</span>
  </em>
  <span> right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right. I just want to finish the summer with us all on good terms if we can.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That makes sense.” His hand found my thigh, fingers tapping a pattern against my skin below the hem of my skirt. His brow furrowed as he looked back at the road, deep in thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You good?” I asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess. We were together a while, you know? Except when we weren't. I haven't seen her since that time at the movies.” His hand left my leg as shifted gears, and didn’t come back to rest on my thigh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I chewed the inside of my lip. “I'm sorry. I can leave her off the list, if you want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, I'll deal.” A pause, then he continued, “It's just… She broke things off because she thought I didn't care about her, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I did, it's just… I couldn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>show</span>
  </em>
  <span> her. Not like I can with Johnny, or you. She didn't get it when I tried.” I could hear the regret in his voice, and I ached to chase it away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I'm no expert, but that's just relationships sometimes, right? Not many people are totally compatible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think that's it? It wasn't just me? It wasn't my fault?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don't think it was anyone's fault in particular. Maybe things are easier with us because we </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> we need to make the effort to make things work. We know we have to talk, because it’s already complicated, and we can't take shit for granted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded, like that made sense. I’d really hate him to carry guilt over Roxy for any longer than he needed to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Yeah.</span>
  </em>
  <span> If you do invite her, you wanna tell her about us?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think so, if you're okay with that, and if Johnny is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” he said. “I think I probably owe her that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That reminded me of something that came up in the backyard at Johnny’s yesterday, and since we were kind of on this topic, in this headspace, I figured I may as well ask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did Jimmy mean when he said that your 'whole asshole act is pretty much foreplay' yesterday?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dutch laughed, the rich sound filling me with a light, giddy feeling. “He said that, huh?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Was he wrong?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head, smiling, “Not </span>
  <em>
    <span>completely. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I liked that you always stood your ground. It's hot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could have guessed that when you kept teasing me about Johnny.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another pause. “Maybe I was a little jealous.”</span>
</p><p><em><span>Wait, what? </span></em><span>That was unexpected.</span> <span>“Of Johnny or me?” </span></p><p>
  <span>“Both, I think. Shit, that sounds stupid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not really. Things with you and Johnny were complicated, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s one way of putting it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I felt this weird, creeping sense of doubt. “You don’t regret things now, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, no. This is… Better than I thought I’d ever get. When Roxy broke up with me, I thought I’d fucked up the one good thing I had. Then… Then you were there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wow. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I took a deep breath to steady myself. “You wanna know when I started wondering about you? About us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glances over at me with that smile, the tilt of his lips just so at one corner of his mouth that makes me lose my train of thought. “Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At the prom. You came out to find me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The smile gives way to a grin. “I remember.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess I started seeing you differently after that. Johnny and I were such a mess, so all over the place. It wasn’t healthy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And this is?” He asked, curious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thinking about it? Honestly, Johnny was happier, we were all more settled. Dutch understood Johnny on a level it would take me years to, he brought us together when it would have been so much easier to drive us apart. It was good, and it felt right, even when it was hard work. As our little trio, our </span>
  <em>
    <span>relationship</span>
  </em>
  <span> now was logistically more complicated, but emotionally, it was so much simpler. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” I admitted. “It is.”</span>
</p>
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